


Carnival of Pleasure

by BittersweetAlias, KimpatsuNoHoseki



Series: Harem of a Necromancer [1]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Drama. Some AU mixed elements of both Harry Potter and the Anita Blake Series., Grey!Darkish!Harry, Language, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash: M/M Pairing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 85,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetAlias/pseuds/BittersweetAlias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimpatsuNoHoseki/pseuds/KimpatsuNoHoseki
Summary: Harry has always attracted danger. But when he moves to St. Louis, with encouragement from Draco Malfoy, to fully embrace his powers; he meets a whole new level of danger between the suave vampire Jean-Claude and sociopathic assassin Edward. Harry winds up on a whirlwind ride, one in which he can't find the exit. If he even wanted to.Book One: Guilty PleasuresWarnings: Slash: M/M Pairing, Sexual Content, Language, Violence, Drama. Some AU mixed elements of both Harry Potter and the Anita Blake Series.





	1. Prologue

**November 2, 1998**

“They're goblins, Harry. Clever as they come, goblins, but not the most friendly of beasts. Best stick close to me.”

It was the first most useful piece of advice that his first friend ever offered, and Harry James Potter had no idea how true it was until that fateful day that he found himself standing across from a rather pissed off yay-high Goblin with razor sharp teeth, and narrow yellow eyes. It’s long crooked nose reminded him of the way Professor Snape would look at him when he couldn’t answer a rudimentary Potions problem.

It wasn’t even six months after the war, and despite the world having decided that he was their most esteemed pet of the year, Harry had been dealing with his own issues occurring lately. Ones, he’d rather not confide in his friends about, and so when he was sent an official letter with the Gringotts’ insignia emblazoned on the front you could bet that Harry was not looking forward to more drama in his already packed life. It’s contents did nothing to relieve him from the memories of how they not only robbed the place, but the fact that Harry had cast an Imperius Curse on one of the tellers.

And so, Harry was prepared to make restitution, and had expected to pay out over half the contents of his trust fund when the Goblin said something that took him by surprise.

“We on behalf of the Goblin Nation thank you for your contribution in a war that no one was prospering from.”

“...” Harry’s face must have shown his surprise because the Goblin ground his teeth.

“Our economy sustained a massive hit during the war that even us Goblins felt. Accounts were drained of every last knut, and the Muggleborns and Half-Bloods fled Britain in great haste, taking the last of their wealth with them. A war is only effective if someone is benefiting from it, and we weren’t.”  
Of course, the Goblins would try to prosper in a time of war. Most companies did. He’d often heard his uncle laughing haughtily about how a company went out of business or was bought out by Grunnings after they brokered a certain deal.

Harry had no taste in dealings like that, he’d leave it to his budding friendship with a certain blond-haired Slytherin. “Sir? Sorry, I’m just surprised. I thought I was in trouble.”

“If the economy hadn’t seen a sudden turn-around, Mr. Potter you may very well be,” said the Goblin, yellow teeth flashing in the torchlight. “But, we managed to get back our investors and customers all within the first few months of the end. However, that is not why you were brought here.” It was then, the Goblin that Harry had not yet caught the name of slid a manila folder toward him.

On the front in large perfect gold block letters:

Last Will and Testament of Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.

Gobsmacked, Harry’s legs nearly buckled as he leaned forward, hands lay flat on the cherry surface of the desk as he stared down at it. “Sir? You’re kidding?”

“I am not.”

“... I don’t understand. H-he never imagined himself dying… why would he-? And me…” Harry could hardly string the words together to properly convey his thoughts out loud, and he pulled away in shock. “W-when did this-?”

“About two years ago.”

“Two years?” Harry breathed. “You mean, he had this drawn up not long after he returned?” If this were true that would mean everything he knew about Lord Voldemort wasn’t exactly the truth. Of course, he never heard anything right from the Megalomaniac’s mouth, but surely Professor Dumbledore wasn’t wrong? “Why would he do that if he was so sure he would succeed and win the war? He would be Britain’s ruler…”

“I can’t begin to delve into the minds of any wizard, especially one such as this one. I have not looked at it. In fact, no one can, not even our brand of magic will allow us to even glimpse it if we tried. It is tied by blood, and only you, Mr. Potter have the legal and magical right to open it. I suggest if you want your questions answered to read for yourself.”

Harry slowly sat in the offered chair in front of the desk, and leaned forward. He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously.

“It seems that the former Dark Lord held a lot of property and assets. The Lestranges, Selwyn, and many other families that were loyal to the Dark Lord gave him everything, including the vault you breeched,” said the Goblin. “It is another reason as to why you are not asked to make restitution for your actions.”

“...” It was a long list, some of them were families that had long since died out. It wasn’t much in the way of gold or monetary wealth, but the items in those vaults. Some were books and ancient scrolls that Harry only heard of through people like Dumbledore and Hermione.

Finally, he reached the last of the file where there was a folded sheet of parchment tucked inside with his name on it. He sat the folder down and unfolded the letter it to see that it was blank. “Uhm…” He laid it flat. “There’s nothing here…?”

The Goblin leaned over to look. “Hm, intriguing. Perhaps, he didn’t get around to writing it?”

“Then why was it folded with my name on it?” Harry sat back thoughtfully, and then his eyes widened when he recalled the diary, and how it worked. “Sir, can I get some quill and ink?”

“You think it is a hidden message?”

“It would be a Voldemort thing to do,” said Harry unscrewing the cap, and dipping the feathered quill, and paused at the top in thought.

My name is Harry Potter.

Just like in Riddle’s Diary, and he waited as the black ink sank into the parchment like water through a drain.

Hello Harry Potter, my name is Tom Riddle.

And as those words appeared, a deep green like his eyes, the office in which he sat in disappeared in a familiar swirl.

Harry’s feet touched solid mahogany floors that had seen better days with it’s scratches and loose boarding. He was in a very old manor, the walls had once been white with wooden panels seemed to have turned yellow and were peeling at the seams. The cobwebbed chandelier hung above his head looked as if it had been beautiful once, but time had not been kind considering the black and green tarnish. A fire in the dirty hearth flickered.

“Welcome to my memory, Harry,” said a cool silk voice that crawled like a spider down his spine. Harry turned, and for some reason he expected to see a teenage boy, but instead there he was, in all his grotesque glory. A very tall and formidable Dark Lord with no nose, and bright cat-like red eyes. He looked to be wearing a heavy black robe with a hood attached.

Never let it be said that Voldemort didn’t have a flare for dramatics or theatrics. Behind him were two dark green armchairs with a table that towered with books. Harry was impressed with the detail of such a memory, and instantly became suspicious. “Is this another one of your souls?” he asked dubiously.

“Yes and no,” said Voldemort, and Harry blinked as a slow smirk slid across his lipless pale face.

Despite the grotesque visage in front of him, he raised his gaze to meet those eyes that haunted many nightmares, and was it his imagination or did he see something beyond cruelty? “It is not tangible so much as it is a spirit that I had imprinted. A rather brilliant piece of magic if I do say so myself.”

“Sure you would,” said Harry, unable to help but smirk. Cocky and narcissistic was definitely a Voldemort trait. “So.. you mind explaining why me?”

“That is why I am here. I did not think a letter would suffice, and this way you can ask me any question you deem fit; and because the spirit cannot lie, you will have all the answers you seek so long as there is magic in the parchment.”

“...” Harry thought about what Voldemort had said. “You’re a zombie?” He may not know much about Necromancy thanks to it being illegal, and even speaking about it could cause suspicion. However, Harry did live in a dark house full of illegal tomes and the Black family was, if nothing else, diligent on keeping up with the family library.

“In a spiritual sense. I do not have a body of my own. I lost my right to own a body when I cast it away,” Voldemort said as though he were talking about the weather.

“... I don’t understand.”

“Of course not, that school is as inept as a squib,” he sneered coldly. “You know nothing. You and your generation are absolutely unprepared for the real world. Just as I was. Sit down Harry and let’s have a chat.” It was bizarre to hear his name being spoken of so easily, and Harry, not knowing what else to do, complied a lot less gracefully than the hulking figure beside him.

“Every spirit leaves behind a magical residue upon their death. I simply imprinted my magic and what soul I had left into this piece of parchment during one of my good days before my death so that it would be stronger.”

It sounded as though he knew he was dying. “Why did you leave a will to me?” asked Harry. Above all else, that was the one question he needed answered.

“Of all people?”

“Many answers to that question, but I do believe that the most prominent is because the moment your blood swam inside of me, I realized exactly what you were, and in this part of the world, Necromancers stick together.”

“... Necromancer? I’m not-”

“But you are,” said Voldemort leaning forward with a smirk. “You, like me, have been gifted with the art of necromancy. It has been a part of us since our birth. It was passed down through the line of the Peverell Family, Ignotus and Antioch Peverell to be exact. It is where the Tale of the Three Brothers come from. It is a necromancer’s story.”

“I thought it was a child’s book?”

“Not always. It was once the tome for all necromancers before it was banned and declared illegal, but the author of Beedle and the Bard, who was also a Necromancer, was smart and managed to transform it into a fairytale for children. Allowing the truth to be revealed to the newer generation without fear of retribution.”

“...” Harry was admittedly completely lost. “I’ve never used necromancy-?” But then he paused when he thought about the few things that had been happening lately. The ones that he had been dealing with before he got his letter from Gringotts, and how he had taken to the Black library in hopes of finding some answers. It wasn’t anything life changing, but there had been instances of odd things that were not the normal magic Harry had been learning that happened.

It all went back to when he was a younger. Harry had been devastated over the school’s pet gerbil because he had been the one who would take care of it during lunch and before school. He had been the one who kept interest after the newness of a school pet wore off, and then Dudley and his friends had gotten a hold of it, and Harry had taken it’s death hard. But, then a few days later the animal had returned. It was wet and soggy as though it had been flushed down a toilet.

Harry would never forget the way the class had screamed bloody murder or the teacher’s reaction when they came in to find it was sitting on Harry’s desk as though it had always been there.

That had been the first time his relatives had referred to him as a freak. Somehow, even though Dudley had been the one to kill it, he had been accused of doing freaky things.

Harry at the time never understood it, and had put it in the back of his mind. It was only now that it was happening more and more that caused him to remember that time.

“But, from what little I’ve read with necromancy being an inherited trait, it has to be used. Its powers demand to be used.”

“Correct, but it is also apart of your magical blood, and unlike the rare Muggles who have none. So you managed to satisfy it just enough every time you cast spells, and then there was my soul latched onto you.”

“You knew about that?”

“Sometimes,” said Voldemort with a small scowl.

“What do you mean, sometimes? You either knew about it or you didn’t.”

“Answer me a question, Harry, what do you remember most about me?”

“...”

“Aside from being a bloodthirsty bastard.”

Harry wanted to laugh at this, honestly. To hear Voldemort call himself a bloodthirsty bastard was hilarious. “You were insane.”

“Correct. Your blood gave me some moments of clarity. Ones in which my intellect could survive, however there were more moments in which I would forget all reason and logic. I was a rotting corpse, and the logical part of me - those rare instances when I was cognizant - knew I was dying. I did not have a teacher to tell me that horcrux are the death of a natural Necromancer, but then even if I had I probably would have killed him anyway.”

“No excuses?”

“None, I do not excuse my actions.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“And I still would if I was walking the earth,” he said simply. “You were in my way to what I wanted, although I do wonder at times if things could have been different. Once upon a time I had goals that did not pertain to crucifying an entire bloodline for something it could not help. My lust for power and the hatred I felt for the world was too strong, and with each horcrux I created I believed I was one step away to immortality. I had no idea I was sinking into madness. It’s like being an alcoholic where you black out, and when you come to you’ve no idea what you’ve done.”

“So, you concocted this during a rare moment of clarity? You knew I was going to…”

“Vanquish me? Yes,” said Voldemort.

Harry frowned at this. “I didn’t. Not really. You did it to yourself. You know if you had left me alone, whether you killed my parents or not, I probably wouldn’t have gotten into the mix of it all.”

“Perhaps,” said Voldemort tapping his fingers on his chin. “But, you cannot reason with madness.”

“You don’t seem mad now,” observed Harry leaning back to look at him. “You seem normal.”

Voldemort snorted. “Really? Is this what you call normal?” He waved a hand in front of his face.

Harry shrugged. “What do I know when it comes to being normal?”

“Indeed, normal is relative.”

“Literally,” Harry quipped. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to meet an adult Tom Riddle with a sound logic and reasoning skills. “I probably would have liked this you…”

And to Harry’s shock, the man threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I was something of a charmer when I was younger, I must admit.”

“Your humble nature is showing,” he snarked causing the man to laugh some more. “So, in essence I am a Necromancer and that’s why you willed everything to me? You knew it was only a matter of time before you truly died? But… why not the Lestranges? I mean, they were your most ardent of followers.”  
Voldemort said nothing for several long moments, and Harry averted his gaze from the thoughtful expression, and looked into the flickering hearth, shadows were cast across the surfaces of the old wood from the fire. “Where are we anyway?”

“Riddle Manor.”

“... I thought I might have recognized it.”

“Recognized it?”

“In my sleep during my fourth year,” said Harry. “I didn’t really understand it then. Why are you here? It looks horrible.”

“It’s the only place for solace for a Dark Lord like me, and to answer your question I chose you, Harry, because you deserve the truth of what you are. You deserve to embrace what you are so that you do not become like me.”

“...” Harry craned his neck once more to look at the Dark Lord who quite frankly looked beaten down and tired. It was like he had a ghost hanging over him.

“It is also my way of repaying a debt that I owe you. You brought me back to life, no matter how short it was, and while it was forcefully taken you still played a part, and the magic recognized that. You will find in the list of items, Antioch Peverell’s vault is listed. You need to look into necromancy and study up because the one thing you don’t want to happen is for your powers to turn against you like it did me because of a foolish mistake.”

“A horcrux? I would never make one of those.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Only someone with a madness and desperation would go to those lengths,” said Voldemort smirking. “I am talking about accidents. Accidents that could land you in trouble. Your powers having an inherent need to be used constructively otherwise you risk the inevitable happening.”

“Like accidentally raising something that’s dead?”

“Or killing something that’s not. Your powers are more than raising the dead, Harry. As much as I loathe to agree with the Ministry or any part of society, necromancy is dark magic. It is a natural dark magic that has not been fabricated; but no amount of light magic casting will see to it ever changing its color.”

“I don’t want to raise the dead. I don’t want to see anyone I know once they’ve been snuffed out. I did it once with that ring, but that’s only because I thought I was dying.”

“And yet here you sit, alive and well. Only a necromancer could survive death the way you did. Why my insane half didn’t put it together is beyond reason.”

“Well, you were insane, and didn’t you say questioning madness was impossible?”

“Hm, you do listen, Harry.”

“I assure you, I listen when I have to or when I want to. But, didn’t I survive because it was your soul that you blasted, and not me?”

“No. You see the killing curse takes the soul… the entire soul shreds and leaves the body completely. It happens so instantaneously, and that is why it is used for horcrux creating. It also prevents a corpse from coming back to life because there is no soul left to call upon. It should have taken your entire soul, including the tiny piece I left in you. But, it didn’t. In the end, I suppose you could say that the night I returned from the cauldron we made a Necromancer’s Pact. I’d probably still be a walking shell had I not tried to kill you.”

“Yet, you still would have?”

“Most likely.”

Harry laughed. “I wish more people were as blunt as you. I think I’d prefer this refreshing quality over the thousands of circles I’ve been sent into before.”

“You and most who have encountered a certain barmy old man,” Voldemort scowled. “I lost my faith in all humanity when he refused to take me from that orphanage. I knew then that no matter what, I always had to look after myself.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had gotten that memo. But, I think it’s way too late now.”

“Yes, the self-sacrificing brat that you are,” Voldemort drawled. “Fortunately or unfortunately that self-sacrifice has allowed you to accomplish something that I could only dream of.”

“And what is that?”

“Living.”

As both of them delved into a solemn silence, Harry took to staring into the fire again, and then, “What happens when I leave this memory or whatever it is?”

“All the magic will fade and so will my spirit. You need to know the truth of your powers so that it doesn’t get out of hand. I suggest you learn and quickly. You have a lot of skeletons in your closet, Harry. A lot of dead wouldn’t mind coming back to see you again, and if your necromancer powers are not used, you may very well see them again.”

“... I’ll try. It’s not like I can owl a nearby tutor without being sent to the Dementors,” and then Harry had the thought. “Are Dementors part of necromancy?”

Voldemort nodded. “Yes, how else do you think I managed to command them?”

“Then why do I react so negatively?”

“Rejection. Inherently, you rejected your powers causing you to also reject the Dementors. They were created as retainers for necromancers as they suck out the soul and house it within their bodies, and so when they fade away or die the soul is released.”

“You know a lot.”

“I am a Dark Lord.”

Harry snickered. “I guess so, but you know you could have been a teacher.”

“That dream sailed away long ago, Harry,” said Voldemort. “But, I thank you for that. It is a high compliment.”

“I wonder what would have changed if you would have been allowed to teach? If you hadn’t been rejected?”

Voldemort shrugged. “It will never be, so there is no point in dwelling on it.”

“Of course there’s a point. If you dwell on it, maybe you can prevent it from happening to someone else. Isn’t that what you’re doing with me?” He expected for a moment that Voldemort might snap at him, but then the man smiled.

“You are much smarter than you’re given credit for, Harry. I suggest you start using your brain to come up with your own decisions. Do not let anyone else make them for you.”

Harry raked his fingers through his wild black hair, and scratched a bit at the scar that never seemed to fade. “Yeah well, I learned years ago that if I come off as stupid I get left alone. The smarter I come off, the more problems I tend to get.”

“Indeed.”

Harry knew that the conversation and his time with Voldemort was almost over as the magic in the air began to tingle, and the room they were sitting in was getting a bit wavy. “Is there anything you do regret? Aside from the horcruxes, and all the obvious not living or winning the war.”

Voldemort tapped his long slim fingers on the arm of the chair. “I think what I regret most was proving that old man right.” He tightened those same fingers.

“During the rare moments of clarity that I’ve gained, I often regret the fact that I never have and never will experience love. I scorned and hated it, but now… the older I am, and being on the other side. I wonder… if love could have changed things.”

His heart ached hearing Voldemort sound so wistful, and that hint of longing hidden in his cold voice made Harry feel so many things.

“Looks like our time is up. I suggest you get started on the Foundation series. You will find the scrolls on top of a gray filing cabinet within the vault.”

“...” Harry stood, and turned to Voldemort who stood with him. “Merlin, you’re a giant.”

“You’re a shrimp, what of it?” Voldemort smirked.

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, well, there isn’t much sunlight in a cupboard.”

Voldemort frowned at this. “You are more like me than I would have thought…”

“I’ve always known this,” said Harry. “I recognized it during my second year when I spoke to your younger self in that diary. The hat did want me in Slytherin after all.”

“Indeed.”

“But, you know something-?” Harry continued, he felt he had to say it before the magic vanished. His heart was thudding harder now, and his palms felt sweaty. “I think that if you had been the you of now, I could have fallen in love with you.”

It was comical how he could surprise the spirit of the Dark Lord, the man dropped his chin to his chest to look at him better. “You’re kidding?”

“No,” said Harry. “I never kid about serious things. Can you crouch for a moment?”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” Harry huffed, and Voldemort lowered his head so that they were almost eye level, and to the spirit’s surprise, Harry kissed him on the cheek.

“...” Voldemort glared at him.

And as the strange magical world around him began to fade, Voldemort brushed his fingers along Harry’s cheek. “Thank you, Harry.”


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Have the treat of a second chapter.

Four years in the states, and Harry Potter was still trying to adjust to the nuances of everyday life. Unlike Britain where the magical world was entirely closed off with a well established Statute of Secrecy stamped in place, the United States of America held no such distinction. It was about two decades ago when MACUSA ended their own Statute of Secrecy, which was far more stringent than even Europe, and witches, wizards, and Muggles started living side by side. It hadn’t been one hundred percent perfect, but it worked. 

Yet, here he was a  _ witch _ that was out in the open. 

Harry still didn’t like being called a witch, but he had mostly given up on reminding everyone that he was a  _ wizard _ with the male anatomy thank you very much. He was also a Necromancer; and in America necromancy had not only turned into a form of art on it’s own but also a booming business. 

Harry never imagined he’d actually be in the business of raising the dead for snobbish people that reminded him of the Dursleys fighting over wills and inheritance, but he did enjoy his life’s work on the occasion that he could help a grieving family come to terms with a loss. Although, Harry was still trying to reconcile the whole rest in peace and the dead should stay dead, but his deceased, somewhat former Dark Lord mentor had not been kidding that if he didn’t get control of his powers that they would take a turn for the worst. 

Harry would never forget ignoring that piece of advice only to awaken to something that should have been dead fast asleep on his bed. 

He had not wanted to see Dobby like that in anyway, shape, or form. After that particular event Harry dove head first into his studies, and thanks to a few contacts had managed to flourish, particularly the Malfoy family. Harry never would have been able to get through the startling fact that the dead could rise at any time nearby if it wasn’t for them. 

They weren’t squeamish when it came to things that were considered illegal or dark. Since Harry had managed to get the entire family pardoned, even going so far as to tell the public that the Malfoys had been working for him the entire duration of the second war, they were once again back in the public eye as a decent reputable family. 

That didn’t stop Draco from following him across the pond two years after he’d left, insisting on setting up business in the land of the free. After taking Muggle classes for ‘research purposes’, of course.

Harry wasn’t convinced that was his real reason, but Draco was a big boy, and he didn’t have to answer to Harry about every little thing. 

Harry lost a few friends, namely most of the Weasleys and Hermione, the moment he told a reporter that the Malfoys had always been a respectable family and even went so far as to cite Lucius for the reason he was alive during his fifth year when they broke into the Ministry’s Department of Mysteries. 

It wasn’t a complete lie, the man had stopped Bellatrix Lestrange from attacking outright, but his friends didn’t see it like that. They focused more on Lucius leading the team that caused lots of harm to the students who followed Harry. Ron liked to remind Harry that Lucius led the attack that saw Sirius killed, as if Harry could forget the actions that led to his godfather’s death via the Veil.

Harry saw a lot of things much differently after the war, and it was these differences along with his budding powers that sent him away from Britain and into the arms of America. Necromancy was legal, magicals could walk up and down a street without hiding who and what they were, and let’s not forget the fact that no one knew Harry’s name nor did they follow him around like a puppy at his heels for every scrap of information that they could. 

_ No _ , here in St. Louis, Missouri he was Harry Potter-Black, Animator extraordinaire, and sometimes a badass Necromancer for hire to the Regional Preternatural Investigation Task-Force or RPIT for short; considering how big of a mouthful the technical name happened to be. 

It must be fate’s way of toying with Harry because he couldn’t seem to do anything without a little notoriety, but that was mostly thanks to the creatures of the night and the help of his non-magical human mentor who had been acquaintances with Remus Lupin. 

He would never say friend, that man simply didn’t do friends. 

It was due to his dubious friendship with the Riverfront native that built the area up often caused him to pause when he came into work that evening to be informed that he had a special client waiting in his office. 

Craig, the night secretary had flashed Harry a smirk when he shared the information.

He should be used to this by now, his boss liked to schedule him appointments without his approval. Anything for a quick buck, Harry thought giving the secretary a slight nod before heading for his office. 

Animators Inc was exactly what it sounded like, except it reminded him of a cartoon or one of those Japan cartoons. What did Draco call it again? 

Ah, yeah, anime. 

That man might be a born and bred Pureblood, but he seemed to have a large fascination with the Muggle television, and all it had to offer.  _ “Can they really kill people for entertainment?” _ It had been Draco’s first question when he saw a show. 

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at that particular fond memory. “Common sense is relative to the species,” he murmured into his cup of extra sugary coffee. It reminded him of that time during the Quidditch World Cup when one of the wizards preferred a woman’s dressing gown to a pair of trousers. 

He pushed open the door to his office only to stop short when the man, or rather vampire, sitting lavishly turned and flashed him one of those seductive glowing smiles. 

“Jean,” Harry managed to say evenly as took another sip of his coffee. 

For the last few years or so, Jean-Claude had been a rather interesting  _ friend _ that Harry had made. Why someone like Jean-Claude would even look his way, Harry hadn’t a clue. He guessed the well-aged vampire who looked like a God on Legs needed amusement from the resident new kid on the block, and Harry was his prime target. 

Jean-Claude stood, and like with most men and a select few ladies Harry felt dwarfed, but that was nothing compared to the man’s looks. He was what a modeling company would beg for in a man. Tall, slim, perfectly wired muscles that was shown off by the frothy French lace of his shirt that didn’t seem out of the ordinary in the magical world of Britain like it does in America. He also wore black leather trousers that gave Harry absolutely no need to use his imagination to see the fact that Jean-Claude did not prefer boxers, briefs, or anything beneath in general. In fact, Harry was convinced that the tight leather had to be part of his skin. At least, that’s how it looked. 

How did he not chafe? Did Vampires chafe? Now, Harry was curious. 

“Ah mon petit prise. It is lovely to see such a beautiful face at first night.” 

“...” Harry rolled his eyes, and moved toward his desk, passing by the handsome vampire. “Good evening to you too.” He placed his cup down, and shrugged out of his jacket. Unlike Jean-Claude, there was no way that Harry would be caught dead in anything so tight. It would not enhance any part of his looks so much as remind everyone just how small he would forever be. 

Thanks, Dursleys! 

It was unusual to see Jean-Claude gracing the boring modern office, looking anything but boring or modern, Harry thought as he sat himself down. 

Jean-Claude was grinning - as he always did, and those dark blue-black eyes made Harry think he was being looked at from the inside out. He’d only done it once before, and he still remembered the look on Mary, the daytime secretary’s face when she saw him. Mary had been lucky that day as Craig had been out, and she took his shift. Jean-Claude had that effect on every female in the world, and some selective males. 

Harry was not immune, but he was ambivalent. It was nice being flirted with, but sometimes too much could be too much. He had met Jean-Claude unexpectedly when he was getting used to the city. Narcissa, the amazing woman that she was, had clued him in on some land and properties that had been owned by the Black family and asked that he check on them. One just so happened to have the largest animating firm in America renting space inside. Made getting a paying job easy. The Black’s also owned property in Riverfront, and that lead him to learning about JC Corporation, and then his first official meeting with Jean-Claude. 

“Oui, I wish it were only me paying a visit to my favorite human, but alas it is not. I am in need of your help.” 

Harry’s head rose at this, locking with Jean-Claude’s eyes for the first time that night. Of course, most people would tell you never look a vampire in the eyes, but he had no such issues. He couldn’t be rolled, and boy had Jean-Claude tried, several times. 

But, Jean-Claude never asked him for help. Not in this way. “What can I do?” 

“You are aware of the vampire murders in the city?” asked Jean-Claude getting right down to it as he once again took residence in the chair, his curls bouncing against his shoulders as he did. 

How did a man get such shiny hair? Or perfect hair? “I am. I believe RPIT have been looking into it.” 

“Oui, but it is not enough. They only know of a few reported. As you know we are not popular with your local police force.” 

“Not mine, Jean. You know that. I don’t have the same opinions as everyone else. I’m only a hired expert after all.” 

Jean-Claude’s smile stretched. “Ah, that is what I like about you, mon petit prise. You are generous to a fault, do be careful with that generosity. Some may take advantage.” Jean-Claude pointed to a file on Harry’s desk. “Inside you will find vampires, ones the force does not know about. The latest ones, and those covered up have been masters.” 

“... Masters, hm?” As he flipped through the pages of photographs, his nose wrinkled at how grotesque they looked. Some of the vampires had nothing left to be investigated. “How do you know it’s not a fellow vampire taking out the competition?” 

“Oui, I feared you would come to that conclusion,” said Jean-Claude, and Harry raised his eyes again, noting the tiny touch of fear lacing his honeyed voice. 

“Why is that a problem? I mean, the Master of the City can take care of it right?” Harry didn’t know the master personally, but the Malfoys had supplied him with enough information to know that Masters of a City were pretty much the Chief of Police in the supernatural world. What they say went, and it was their law, no matter how obscene, violent, or awful it tended to be. All other masters bowed to that Master. Now whether that was out of respect, fear, or hatred did not matter; you bowed or could not expect to be around long. 

Harry was well aware of them skirting of the law, but he would be a hypocrite if he started spouting human laws to a vampire. Their society and hierarchy was very different as a whole, and so some of the laws simply couldn’t be used against vampires or werewolves or anyone of the supernatural kind. It was ridiculous to even think they could. There were a whole host of circumstances that were too different and bizarre. 

It was like Draco not knowing that violence on a television was fake or how wizarding men probably shouldn’t wear a woman’s dressing gown unless they intended to wear it for their own satisfaction. 

He noticed that Jean-Claude went quiet, he had reclined back, one arm draped over the wooden arm of the chair. His leg crossed over his knee. “Do you know how old I am, Harry?” 

It was unusual when Jean-Claude used his actual name. For a long time, Harry was convinced the man forgot it. What it was as he was always called... _ tiny catch _ ; which clued him in to the fact that Jean-Claude was never serious in his flirtations. 

Sure did make a boy feel good though. 

Harry wasn’t very good at guessing games. That was Hermione or Draco’s forte, but he did know that Jean-Claude was a master. Now, how strong a master was was relative. Harry had never seen anything more special about the man except for his business savvy mind, good looks, and keen observation. 

Jean-Claude would have done well in Slytherin. 

“I know you’re a master, probably over four hundred?” But as he said this, Jean-Claude’s smile turned almost tragic, and Harry realized what this meant. “You’re getting closer in line to the Master?” Jean-Claude looked around suddenly as if fearing he would be overheard, but Harry expecting this took out his wand. “ _ Silencio Maximus! _ ” A flash of blue lit the room, and Jean-Claude shivered slightly as he felt Harry’s magic, and drew in a rare breath. “There, no one can hear you now, Jean. If you want me to help, you need to tell me everything. Even if it looks bad for you.” 

Jean-Claude relaxed, and laced his fingers together. “Ah, mon petit prise. You really are a tresor. I have been comfortably sitting away from the current master. I had a good enough distance to be forgotten, but close enough to be relevant.”

“But, as the body count grows that distance is getting shorter. You don’t want to get close to the Master of the City?” 

“Non,” said Jean-Claude. “Further is always safest. She wants to know who is behind the murders as do I, because I do not wish to end up number two, the life expectancy of a number two does not exist with her and if it does it is unpleasant.”

“Right - she would always fear you taking over.” 

“Not possible.” 

“...” Harry arched an eyebrow. “I doubt that.” 

Jean-Claude mimicked him. “Hm?” 

Harry snickered as the man tried so very hard to give him the most innocent look, which only made his snickers turn into laughter. It should have been a tense and nerve wracking conversation, but he couldn’t help it. “Jean, cut the crap. You are a snake.” 

Jean-Claude mock gasped, and placed a hand over the burned cross mark on his chest. “Mon petit prise, you wound me with your accusations!” 

“Honest ones. Now, I might not be great at guessing ages, nor can I read minds, but I’ve seen powerful men,” he said. 

“They were human, I am not.” 

“Did I say they were human?” Harry shook his head. “You are strong. You’re very strong, but you’ve been hiding it in plain sight. You’ve kept a low profile so you’re not seen as a threat, but you do have a following,” he said smirking at Jean-Claude’s stony expression. “I’m not accusing you or saying no to helping. I’m letting you know what I see, and if an amateur like me sees your strength…” 

“A Master of the City can taste it,” Jean-Claude finished. 

“If you don’t find out who is doing this, you will be targeted, correct?” Harry didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Most certainly.”

“Also, if you are targeted, you know me well enough that I will step in.” 

“Mon petit prise there is no reason for that. You do not need to have anything to do with our Master. It is best you not,” said Jean-Claude. 

“I can’t be rolled and rarely am I deceived, Jean.” He looked back down at the file. “What do you need specifically from me?” 

“I need information, anything I can take back with me.” 

Truthfully, Harry didn’t have much information. Not more than Jean-Claude already had in the file. He opened it again, and rifled through the police report. He could try his luck with Dolph, the commander of the RPIT squad. “Can I have some time to look over this? I’ll check in with the squad, and see if they have anything more.” 

“If that is what you need. It is too bad that this was not a social call.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I think you have more than enough to play with, you don’t need little ol’ me.” 

“Ah, but you are the only one that is mon petit prise!” exclaimed Jean-Claude dramatically. “I will be at Guilty Pleasures tonight. You should come, have some fun.” 

Guilty Pleasures was the hottest and only vampire strip-club in St. Louis. It boasted a reputation of pleasure and sin, and it was packed every night. 

Jean-Claude was a brilliant businessman, but he was also a seductive vampire. He knew how to draw a crowd, and make a living out of entertainment ever since the legislation passed that allowed vampires to become legal. 

As if they could really help being what they were. 

Bigots. 

Harry had only ever been to the strip-club on the Riverfront once, and that was because of a case. Harry tried to avoid those places. Not because he was squeamish, but it was the principal of the thing. Harry didn’t really understand anything when it came to sexuality. He knew he liked men, but he didn’t really know much else. He’d never been with a man. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can make no promises. Honestly, you know just as much if not more than the police.” RPIT was under budget, and full of chaos. 

Everyone realized too late that when you legalize an entire race or species new laws had to be developed. Rights had to be given out, and a lot of people still felt that vampires and lycanthropes had no rights at all. Harry didn’t agree with them. 

Jean-Claude stood right then, and Harry strained his neck as the man leaned over the table, their eyes locked. “You do me so much favor, I do hope I can one day return it.” His cool long perfect fingers grazed beneath Harry’s chin, and no matter how much he tried to calm his raging blood pressure, he could feel the heat rise through his neck to his cheek. 

“You can stop that. You don’t have to flirt with me to get my help,” said Harry with an off-handed wave. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I only speak true.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Harry was good at thwarting Jean-Claude’s advances. Not because they were unwanted, but because he did not believe in one-night stands or being a catch of the week. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your limited night, Jean. I’ll see you when I can with information.” 

Jean-Claude said nothing for a long moment, and seemed to only stare at him. “I do wish you would see my intent.” 

“I do, Jean.” 

“Non, I don’t think you do, Harry.” Jean-Claude pulled away and flicked his hand. “Merci.” He gave Harry a sweeping bow before turning on his heeled boots, and elegantly walking out leaving Harry to let out a breath he had no idea he’d been holding. 

He rubbed his forehead. “Bloody God on Legs!” He tossed the file on his desk and reclined in his chair, glaring at the ceiling. 

If Harry took Jean-Claude’s flirting seriously, he knew what would come after, and then after that. It simply made no sense for someone like Jean-Claude to have a single ounce of interest for someone like scruffy and knobby-kneed Harry Potter. 

Things like that just didn’t happen in reality. 

Harry shook his head again, and double checked the time. He had an appointment with a client in a half hour on the other side of town, and he could make it if he wanted to give his client a heart-attack by apparating and then pulling live chickens from his bag. But Bert, his boss, had told him not to do that unless he couldn’t help it. 

Especially after he’d sent one woman into a dead faint by popping in right next to her. Most  _ witches _ , and Harry used that term loosely, did not have the kind of magic he had in his veins. Most of theirs was taught and learned rather than inherited. Harry would liken their brand of magic to druidism or shamanism. It came from the earth, and they were sensitive enough to it that they could channel it. It reminded Harry of the faulty magic of divination. 

Still, the issue with the murdered vampires. What the hell could get the jump on a master? To the point that they could get close and get slaughtered?

Harry’s first thought was maybe it was a seducer. It didn’t have to be a female, that would be stereotyping, but then it would also be stereotyping if he said that a woman couldn’t do so much damage. 

He knew for a fact that women were just as capable if not more so than men. 

Bellatrix Lestrange anyone?

Harry was sure that she was even more sadistic than Voldemort. 

Sighing again, Harry pushed a hand through his hair, and ignored the fact that he made it even messier. A contention with his boss who insisted on him either growing it out or cutting it shorter if only to look more tidy and professional. 

Considering Harry technically owned the building he had no reason to listen to Bert. 

But, honestly? What on earth was tidy and professional about killing a few chickens and spilling their blood all over his clothes before raising a zombie from a grave?

Bert wouldn’t understand as he didn’t get his hands dirty unless it meant digging hundred dollar bills out of a sewage pit. And then you could bet that man would be the first to dive in, and without any protection or care for his actual well-being. 

He mulled over the question of who and what could have gotten the jump on a master vampire on his way out of the building. 

“Did you enjoy your meeting?” Craig teased as he passed. 

Harry didn’t bother to answer as he continued passed, and out the door. He learned some time ago that while tolerance for the supernatural was easy, people still had preconceived notions about what gay men were like and how they all wanted the same thing or how they slept with everything. If only they knew that Harry hadn’t so much as kissed another man before, they’d probably not believe him. It wasn’t like they were trying to be rude, Harry guessed it was simply their nature. 

Growing up with the Dursleys, Harry had always been told he was wrong from the get-go, and they had no idea what his preferences might or might not be. But, sexuality in the wizarding world wasn’t an issue; not like blood purity was recently. 

Hell, even Hermione had been stunned when she learned that Harry preferred the company of men; but he could tie that to her muggle world upbringing. The only reason Ron had a problem with it was because he saw it as a slight to his sister and Harry joining his family in marriage. 

Harry had been sixteen, how was he to know what he liked? He was fighting for his life, and did as much as he could when he wasn’t fighting to appear normal. But, in doing that he had boxed himself in, and only because of his sudden and drastic move to the states was Harry able to escape that box. To explore what he liked, who he really was.

By the time he returned home, blood caked beneath his short nails and a half a dozen questions about his age later, the light was beginning to breach the sky. Surely, Jean-Claude would be hiding away by now. Not that Harry had anything new to share with the vampire, and thus no reason to see him again tonight.

Harry was used to long nights. He turned into the drive across from an ancient dilapidated cowboy cemetery to an old gray stoned manor sat back on a hillside. It was a classic Black property without the house-elves and heads mounted on walls. It still had the lingering look of gloom, almost like one of those museums in rural towns that was a one room house except this was way too big for one single person. 

He didn’t even bother to pull into the proper drive, and parked right in front and lugged himself and his bag out of the car up the concrete stairs. It had been the first thing he repaired when he decided to settle in. 

He made quick work of a shower as magic could only do so much removing blood stains, and promptly fell face first in the bed only to awaken at half past ten to the sound of tapping. At first, he thought it was an owl with the morning post, before Harry remembered that he didn’t order the post from either country. When he turned over he brought his hands to his eyes to rub away the sleep when he saw a blurring pale figure sitting at the desk nearby. 

“You know, I’d like a warning about you being arse-naked face down in the bed, Potter,” snarked the familiar voice of the only magical Brit who knew his home address. 

Why did he give it again? Oh, right, the git was somehow a friend. “Sod off,” Harry mumbled turning over and tugging the cover closer as he squinted. “What are you doing?” 

“Homework,” Draco grumbled. “My bloody economics Professor assigned us a twenty page thesis!” 

“...” 

“It’s due in three days!” 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you torture yourself?” 

“Higher education! Muggles may be bloody bastards at times, but they know how to work the system.” 

“You know, you could have opted out of classes through the summer. Don’t most college students do?” 

Draco snorted. “What do I need a holiday for?” 

“So you don’t have to write a thesis? By the way, I need you to look at something.” 

“Good, anything but words on this thin arse paper! I still have a hard enough time with the computers, dead useful though.” 

Harry fished around for his glasses. After the war, and once Draco had assigned himself the personal snarky caretaker of Harry James Potter, the hoity-toity git that he was made Harry not only get a new wardrobe, but also new glasses. He admitted that he could now see a whole lot better than before and they didn’t look half bad. He looked more like a sharp student when he was ‘tidied up’ as Draco called it. They were thin, clear framed, and rectangular. According to Draco they fit his face much better than the round half-broken glasses he’d had since he was six. He only wore contacts on special occasions. He summoned his bag as Draco rose. His arms stretching in the air in hopes of snapping part of his back. 

Harry shuddered at the distinctive crack it made. Looking at his once childhood nemesis, Harry would never guess that he had hated Muggles. He still held some contention, but Draco had embraced some of their more modern standards of living. One in particular was the clothing. Draco was a primper through and through, and the Muggle world had quite the men’s fashions on hand to choose from. 

It was crazy to think that Draco was now the best friend that he didn’t know he needed. Ron had been the friend he didn’t have a choice but to have. If he had Ron, he had the family, but Harry learned that sometimes even good intentions came with bad choices. 

Harry handed him the file. “Brace yourself. It isn’t pretty.” 

“What is when it comes to your side job?” Draco snarked as he plopped down with all the grace of an Heir, and opened the folder only to blanch and close it. “What the bloody hell is it?” 

“A dead vampire.” 

Draco gawked at him, and then opened it again. “What the hell could do this to a vampire?” 

“A master to be precise. A total of ten vampires slain. Police only know of four,” said Harry settling back against his pillows, of which he had a half a dozen. He liked his pillows. 

“Two super strong master vampires were killed like this?” 

“Yeah I’m a bit clueless, and unless a manticore was unleashed in the District I’m drawing up blanks.” 

Draco flicked through the documents a little more slowly, and his usually blank face kept changing expression to one of disgust. It didn’t help that some parts of the vampire that was found was a few entrails and rib bones. 

“I don’t think anything human could do this. A were maybe?” 

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” said Harry. 

“Why not?” 

“Because the guy who brought this to me has wolves to call, and though he isn’t Master of the City, he’s pretty strong in his own right. Also no hair was found at the scene. Just a hollowed vampire.” 

Draco lowered the folder. “You mean, Jean-Claude?” He smirked. “What’s going on there?” 

Harry glowered at him. “Absolutely nothing! But, he did ask for my help, and while he didn't look scared, he looked concerned.” 

“He’s a master right?” Harry nodded. “Does he fear for his life?” 

“Not by whatever is causing this. He’s scared of the Master of the City. The Master wants answers.” 

Draco drew in a breath. “I see, he stays in the back of the pack so he’s not noticed.” 

“Except he is noticed. He might not come off as particularly strong, but he has business sense. He is the one who managed to drag the Riverfront out of the dredges of ruin, and he’s one of the few vampires that likes being mainstream. He likes being legal. He might not always play on the right side, but then who does?” Draco grinned, and Harry glared. “Shut it!” 

“ _ I _ didn’t say anything, and here you are defending him, and yet you say you don’t like him?” Harry’s glare turned smoldering, and Draco continued to laugh at him. “Potter, you are a transparent bastard.” 

“They were married thank you,” Harry quipped as he summoned some boxers, and slipped them on beneath the covers. 

Draco was chuckling quietly now. “I’ve already seen your arse too many times for that to matter.” 

“Hmph!” 

“Are you making me breakfast?” 

“Why me?” 

“I can’t.” 

“Lazy arse,” Harry hauled himself out of bed, and made for the ensuite-bathroom.

_ “Hey! Don’t forget to make those famous eggs!”  _

Harry smiled into the mirror at the child-like tone that Draco sometimes took on when he wanted food or someone to wait on his spoiled arse, and honestly? Harry didn’t mind. He liked this Draco, and wished he had gotten to know this particular boy over the snobby upstart. 

All Draco ever asked for from him was some food, and a bit of entertainment. He never expected anything more, and maybe that was because he already had everything. 

Except for someone honest, and Harry could do honest. 

He would never say it aloud to anyone, but Harry was thankful for Lord Voldemort giving him advice about making his own decisions. 

Being friends with Draco? Moving to a place that accepted him for his natural talents? Choosing to defend the rights of a decent man no matter the species? Trying not to turn red when that seductive man flirted with him? 

Yeah, they were all Harry’s decisions, and he couldn’t be happier. 

oOo

“Please!” Draco had a whine that could make squalling babies seem pleasant, and to top it all off the twenty-three year old man was stomping his feet, and really? 

It was part cute and part annoying. “I don’t even want to go, Draco. I don’t have party clothes you know that! All I have is what you made me buy, and none of it screams… erm…” 

“Hot frothy naked men dancing on stage?” Draco was practically rocking in the dining chair. It was shortly after breakfast, in which Draco had scarfed down a half a dozen pancakes and two helpings of scrambled eggs. 

One would think the former Slytherin was a starving student. However, if one considered the hundred dollar bills stuffed to the gills in his wallet to the point that he needed to use magic _ and _ a velcro band to keep it tight, you would know that the bugger was only a lazy git. 

“You’re not even gay!” 

“I’m curious!” 

“Such a Gryffindor,” Harry taunted causing Draco to start pouting. “Fine, you do the dishes and dress me up, and we’ll go.” 

Draco’s eyes sparkled. “Really?” 

Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to regret this later or not. “Really, but I honestly don’t know what I’m going to tell Jean-Claude. What can I say that he can take back to his master to appease her?” 

“Make something up?” Draco tried. 

“Like what?” 

“What was your first thought when you saw the file?” 

“To get that close to a master vampire it had to be someone they knew and while not completely trusted as most do not, trusted enough to believe that they wouldn’t get jumped. Someone with skills… and the only thing human that could do that would be one our kind Draco. Not even a human gun would do that kind of damage to a vampire. I mean you could put them through a wood chipper… but that would leave a trace.” 

“How about one of those meat things?” 

“Grinder? Not big enough, unless it was professional grade… but I don’t think so. Surely, other meat would be found with it, and the skeleton on some were hollowed like a log. If it wasn’t for the vampire element I would say he was cut up alive. As if he had no chance of survival. Something rabid with no conscience or knowledge to what he was doing.” 

“Cannibal?” 

“Eating almost everything? Aren’t they selective? It was torn… ripped…” Harry reached for the folder again, never mind the fact that the two had only just eaten and were talking about dismembered vampires. 

Draco might act creeped out when he first glimpsed something, but that often passed by. Both had grown up compartmentalizing, and cases like this were no different. “I still say a random were. It doesn’t have to be a wolf. It could be anything.” 

“That still leaves me with nothing to hand Jean-Claude,” said Harry miserably. “I can’t show up there, and disappoint him.” 

Draco smirked. “I don’t think he expects you to show up with the answers, Harry. I think he just wants you to show up.” 

“You don’t even know him apart from seeing him once or twice from a distance.” 

“I don’t have to, the way you talk about him-” 

“Enough!” Harry shook his head. “I have not been talking about Jean-Claude as though he means anything more than a friend to me.” 

“Right… because you don’t go all hot in the collar, and that isn’t a wand in your pocket when you think about him.” 

“Actually, it is a wand,” Harry pulled it out, and twirled it. “And why the hell are you looking at my crotch?” 

“It’s fun, and when you stand how can I not? I am sitting down after all.” 

“Git! Do the dishes!” 

Draco grinned, and flicked his own wand causing all of them to soar through the air toward the sink. Harry glowered. “Aren’t we wizards, Harry?” he asked cheerfully. “Now, let’s see to dressing you up!” 

Harry groaned. “Right now?” He was the one whining now. 

“Now!” 

“B-but, it’s only noon!” 

“I need all the time I can get with you, and then I have to dress myself! Perfection doesn’t come that easy for you as it does for me.” 

“Merlin, I love how much humility you possess, Draco. Thank you for the reminder.” 

“Any time!” 


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter uploads will be consistent to the end of the book! Enjoy! - Bitter
> 
> Some bits taken from the book where it wasn't logical to change! Neither of us own anything. Just playing, <3

# Chapter Two

“As my father always says, looking good has no price!” Draco was brushing a non-existent hair from Harry’s shoulders and constantly turning him around to peck at him. 

It wasn’t that Harry had an issue with money or what things cost, but he did have this small issue that wearing clothes worth more than an average person’s weekly pay. It made Harry think about the times he had no food on Privet Drive while his relatives lavished themselves and their obese son. Such a waste of money. 

He was trying not to project his feelings, but Draco was shockingly astute when it came to reading him. Something that even seven years of friendship with his childhood friends couldn’t manage. 

“If it makes you feel any better, donate an equal amount to what we just spent to charity or something.” 

That was Draco, Harry thought fondly. “It’s fine. I’m already a member of several charities.” 

Draco paused at this. “You better let me look at your folder. Some of those charities can be scams.” 

“I’m pretty sure the Lycanthropy Foundation is solid, Andromeda started it shortly after the war.” 

“Let me look at the others. I will not have you scammed by anyone,” said Draco succinctly, and then he pushed Harry in front of the mirror. “Am I good or what?” 

“_ Or what _ is my choice,” said Harry blinking at the man that mimicked him. He admitted silently that he didn’t look half bad. 

He was still unreasonably short, but the black heeled ankle boots helped give him a bit of elevation so that he didn’t look so much like a stunted high schooler. Maybe, he would wear them more often instead of the trainers he always wore for practicality sake. He was thankful that Draco had put him in snug fitting black boot-cut jeans, and not in leather. He would have hexed the man’s balls if he tried. 

It may look good on men like Jean-Claude, but Harry was not a man like Jean-Claude. In fact, he still looked exactly as he did when he was seventeen, and that caused a lot of issues with not only clients, but the RPIT squad liked to tease him about how young he looked. 

Stereotypes, if he had been a woman, no one would blink at his youthful looks at twenty-three. He and Draco had gone into Hogwarts at about the same height, but where Harry stopped around sixth year, Draco kept going until he seemed to match Jean-Claude’s height. His pale blonde hair was still perfectly gelled, but it was no longer slicked back. It had a more natural mess at the top while remaining perfectly trimmed everywhere else. 

Harry could only guess that magic played a part in how Draco was able to make his hair arranged in an artful way, but not even magic or a bottle of sleek-eazy would see Harry’s nest of black hair tamed. Then Draco had gotten this brilliant idea to make his hair messier. 

“You know, the just been shagged look? It’s the in thing these days!” 

“You mean just woke up and don’t know what a brush is?” Harry asked. “Mrs. Weasley hated that about my hair.”

“No, this is just shagged.” Draco scoffed, “why would you taking fashion advice from that woman? You just need to be artful about it.”

Draco had put him in a pale green silk button down. Paired with the contacts, ready for itching in about two hours, his eyes stood out beneath his mess of black hair and thin pale face. Thankfully, he didn’t try to put make-up on Harry again. Harry didn’t see any reason to make his eyes pop more than they already did without glasses.

Bert would approve except for the hair, Harry thought, but he wasn’t after Bert’s approval and so the old man could stuff it. 

Draco on the other hand was in tailored dark jeans not quite black, and more on the gray side with a lilac button down, and it looked really good as the first three buttons were unclasped. Draco had finished with a silver chain around Harry’s neck. It wasn’t a cross or anything of the nature, he wouldn’t do Jean-Claude the dishonor of wearing a cross that wouldn’t do a thing even if he tried, as he wasn’t exactly a believer. Instead, the symbol for the Hallows hung from the chain; partially visible with his top two buttons undone. Luna had crafted it for him last Yule. She was always crafting and sending him funny little trinkets. He still refused to wear the bottle-cap shoe-laces, but he did hang them up near the mirror if only in reminder of his quirky friend. 

“Perfect.” Draco’s smile was as smug as it ever was, and Harry gave an incline of his head. 

“It’s not bad.” 

“Not bad? I think it’s my best yet!” 

“Uh huh.” He reached for the familiar moleskin pouch that had a few necessities, and managed to tie it around his wrist and tuck it into his sleeve so that it was unnoticed. It was the middle of July and hot, but thanks to cooling charms Harry and Draco felt none of that. 

The black Lexus had been Draco’s idea. Apparently, the bugger needed a chauffeur and a fine car if he was forced to live amongst the Muggle society. Harry didn’t buy that one single bit because the pleasurable look that briefly transpired on Draco’s face every time he slid into the passenger seat told him everything. 

Draco had embraced a Muggle culture that he was once forbidden to even think about let alone appreciate. 

Harry had gone to driving school when they first made the move. He probably could have tinkered with a car using magic, but figured he shouldn’t try to stand out so much that his magic became bizarre to even non-magical witches. Not to mention it was kind of fun. He had all kinds of freedom, and while it wasn’t flying and never would be, flying down a highway was good enough for him. 

Riverfront was an old district with narrow streets that were brick-paved, the buildings were old, and maybe it was because it reminded him of Diagon Alley, but Harry honestly enjoyed the well-aged look. Even with new business popping up now that vampires were legal in America slowly transforming the place, they were doing a good job of keeping the look and feel the same. It was also good for him as the Black had some stake in the properties. He even owned a lot of shares and land in the run down mess. Of course, they weren’t worth much, but they belonged to him. He and Jean-Claude had been in talks over the years about trying to liven the place up, and make it more tourist friendly. Neither of them approved of the Blood Square moniker.

Usually it was deserted during the day with only a smattering of cars, but at night and particularly on the weekends it was positively overflowing. 

Harry managed to find a spot on the curb with only a thick sheet of concrete between them and the river, but no wizard in their right mind worried about things like a car going into the river. In fact, Draco had charmed the contraption to hell and back that not even a semi or a train could take it out. 

Draco while usually prim and proper in public could not contain his excitement, and was practically bouncing. Harry was already fishing into his tight arse trousers for his wallet that had his ID. 

“What are you doing?” asked Draco. 

“You have to be twenty-one to enter these places, Draco. You best get it out now,” Harry poked him in the side. 

“But, aren’t you expected?” 

“I only know Jean-Claude. I don’t know the rest of them, and do I look twenty-one to you?” 

“No,” Draco replied getting his own out. That was when the neon lights on the club caught his attention, and he managed to temper down a squeal. “Bright!” 

The lights were bloody red and glowing wildly, and easily highlighted the fact that there was a line. Mostly of women, but there were a few men also dabbled in the line in hopes of getting in. “Bloody hell, do we have to wait?” Draco hissed staring at the line that seemed to go on forever. “Can’t we - you know, charm ourselves to slip through the crowd?” 

Harry smiled, and made to deny Draco’s request when he felt a tickle of fingers glide across his shoulder and down his arm. “Good evening, mon petit prise!” Like silk across skin, even Draco’s eyes flickered as Harry tilted his head, noting the perfect hand barely touching him, and the seductive smile that spread across Jean-Claude’s face. 

“Jean.” 

“Did I hear you mention sneaking in?” he asked coyly. 

Draco made a noise. “Erm…” 

“We weren’t going to do it, Draco’s a bit of a special case,” said Harry. “He’s used to VIP treatment.” 

“I am rich you know,” Draco huffed with a cross of his arms. “And so are you if only you’d embrace it.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. It was so Draco to say something like that, and then accuse Harry of not embracing a side that by most standards of the world would be frowned upon. “Sorry I don’t know how to embrace the pomp and fromp, Draco. That’s why I have you as a friend.” 

Draco nodded imperiously as though he knew it was true, though it definitely wasn’t, and Jean-Claude chuckled richly bringing his fingers to his lips. “Fetching, and you are Draco?” 

“Draco Malfoy!” Draco looked him straight in the eyes, and held out his hand. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Jean-Claude is it?” 

“Oui!” Jean-Claude smiled. “He talks of me? Sometimes, I can never tell with him.” 

Harry glowered silently when Jean-Claude caressed Draco’s hand, and he saw the effects instantly. If Draco had been a school girl, he would have been giggling and would have turned to mush. Thank Merlin Lockhart hadn’t been a vampire on top of everything else.

“You can never tell a lot of things with him, but honestly? You’ll never find a more true friend,” said Draco passionately. 

Harry flushed at this. It wasn’t often that Draco complimented him in such a way, and it made him feel weird. “Enough, Draco!” he hissed. 

“What? It’s true!” 

“I do believe, mon petit prise is only embarrassed by your flattery. So he seems to get that way around more than only me? It is nice to know.” 

“...” Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. “Are you going to invite us in or do we have to wait in line?”

“Non, you’re VIP, why would I ever make you wait on me? I tend to enthrall you in the most humbly honest way possible.” 

Draco started laughing, and Harry burned a pleasant shade of a vampire’s favorite color. He let out a funny noise cross between a whine and a groan before stalking forward. “I’m going in! I have men to see, ones that don’t talk!” 

“Non, instead they show by action. Is that what you require, mon petit prise?_ Action _?” Jean-Claude was suddenly right there, chest barely touching his back. It took everything inside of Harry not to breathe too deep unless he was heard. 

Draco’s eyes had even widened at the bold advances, but the git did nothing to save him. 

“Git,” Harry muttered. 

“Now that is not very nice.”

Draco was laughing again. “Sorry, Jean-Claude, he’s not talking to you this time. I’m the git.” 

“You both are sorry pieces of work but in very different ways, and yet it’s no wonder you get along. Slytherins, both of you!” 

“And you’re not?” Draco challenged. 

Harry huffed. “I may very well could have been, but I wasn’t. So, hah! I’m a lion, through and through.” 

Jean-Claude looked from one to the other. “I apologize, but I feel as though I have gotten lost in what seems to be an amusing byplay.” 

“School,” Draco supplied. “It was the school we went to for magic. There were houses that you stayed in, and a magical hat determined which you would get into based on personality and the taste of our magic.” 

“Ah, I believe there is an amusing story there, I must ask for at a later date. For now, I do think both of you shall enjoy the show. I have reserved some seats for you.” 

“I’m not here for that,” Harry stammered as he tried to turn away from Jean-Claude. He felt as though the cooling charms had worn off, and he’d been thrown into a sauna wearing a blanket. 

No one had ever made him feel so… so strange, and Harry didn’t quite understand it, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it, and dammit, would Jean-Claude stop staring at him? It was annoying. 

“I’m here to save your arse.” Down to business, yes, that’s exactly what Harry needed right now. He needed business, and not pleasure. 

It was too bad he was being lead into the den of pleasure. 

Guilty Pleasures at that. 

Jean-Claude’s smile told Harry that he knew exactly what he was thinking. “Business can resume later. For now, I am your host, and I insist that you make the most of your night.” He gently placed a hand on Harry’s back to inch him forward. 

Draco was grinning. “I can’t wait!” 

Harry made a noise. “You don’t even like men…” he repeated. 

Draco tilted his head. “Actually, I don’t really know that, Harry,” he admitted. 

Harry turned suddenly. “Huh?” 

Draco shrugged. “Not that our world had a problem with it, but from the moment I was born I was expected to get married and have an heir. I never thought about what I wanted because what the family wanted was what I wanted, you know? Why do you think I came with you?” 

“I thought you came with me to watch my arse.” 

Jean-Claude didn’t interfere as he listened to the two of them, still as a stone statue. Harry wished he’d move or blink or something. 

“Yes, I did,” said Draco. “But, I also realized that I needed to get away and make my own decisions. You know how I saw my father. How much I looked up to him, and what did he do? He put us right in the line of fire.” 

“A fire he didn’t have a choice but to enter, Draco. It is much easier to be forgiven from those like me. He had a family to think about,” and before Draco could retaliate, Harry was already speaking fast. “I don’t care what his motives were at the time of his constant wishing and longing for the old ways. The fact of the matter is, he didn’t have you and likely didn’t have Narcissa the first time, and when he realized the true danger and horror he was in… that changed everything.” 

Draco by now was glaring at him. “That wasn’t my point, Potter. My point is, I don’t know what I like, and honestly, you shouldn’t put everyone on a plinth and rationalize their actions. Some people are just born rubbish!” 

“But you weren’t.” 

“Almost!” 

“Doesn’t matter,” said Harry. “Actions speak louder than words, and you and your family did more for me in the first six months than all my friends combined. Yes, they spent their time dealing with the same rubbish, but they never let me forget that my decisions were not my own, and that I had to follow a trail of breadcrumbs. Your mother went to the same extremes as my own mother. Don’t think I don’t know the truth.” 

“Let’s stop this… we’re here to have fun,” said Draco in an almost broken tone as he looked away. 

Harry nodded. “I agree.” As he turned, and headed off toward the steps where a large muscular vampire was waiting on them. 

Jean-Claude reacted instantly, pulling Draco by the elbow. “What happened?” he asked seriously. 

“Harry happened,” he stated. “Sometimes, I’m amazed at how good of a person he is. He can overlook and rationalize almost anything that would cause horror in most others. I hope you don’t plan on taking advantage of that because if you do - I’ll remind you why Harry gets annoyed at being called a witch and not a wizard.” He didn’t smile or even looked angry. He had a blank and perfectly crafted expression as though he were made of marble. 

“I had no desire to take advantage of the good, Draco,” said Jean-Claude. “Do not think rash of me because of my species.” 

Draco snorted. “Your species has nothing to do with it, Jean-Claude. I’m speaking as a man who once tried to kill the only real friend he’s ever had.” 

He left Jean-Claude speechless, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t something that happened often. 

The vampire at the door was named Buzz, and he looked as if he belonged on stage as impressively muscular as he happened to be. Jean-Claude gave Buzz a distinct nod. 

“They are welcome here, please do relay this to the rest of the staff.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Harry beamed. “Nice to meet you, Buzz! I’m Harry.” 

“Draco,” said Draco curiously looking around when they were stopped by a human woman who asked about crosses. “Why would we have that?” he asked with a blink. He looked at Harry. “Why are people obsessed with religion?” 

“Beats me,” said Harry shrugging. “No, we don’t have any crosses or holy symbols. This is only alchemy,” He held up his necklace that dangled. 

The pretty lady looked concerned when Jean-Claude reached around, and though it tingled from the silver, managed to clasp his fingers around the symbol. “It is silver and irritating, but it is not a holy item.” By now, he was breathing against Harry’s neck, and way too close to an ear that he hadn’t realized was sensitive. 

“Okay!” The lady smiled, and Harry who had been holding his breath with Jean-Claude so near only let it out when the man removed himself. He knew he was flushed, Draco’s smirk was telling. 

“You shut it, you pompous git!” It wasn’t hard for Harry and Draco to get back to their usual self after a dark moment. Considering the way they grew up, it was natural to change from one setting to another. Harry found it a breath of fresh air that he and Draco could squabble and get dark, and yet they wouldn’t linger on it too long. His old friends had a habit of dragging something out until it was deader than the chickens he sacrificed. He felt Jean-Claude’s curious gaze on them as they swept through a large room that had even Draco drawing a breath. 

… There was a reason that Guilty Pleasures was the hottest strip-club, and not because it was the only vampire strip-club, but because of the quality of men it housed. 

Harry was never one to really get weak in the knees at looks. Jean-Claude simply had that personality that made Harry’s gullible side tingle, and yes he was a beautiful man. Probably the most beautiful Harry had ever seen, but that wasn’t why Harry would flush or get warm in his presence or whenever he was flirted with. 

But, these men looked as though they were molded from the most expensive materials with exact requirements. 

The club itself was packed, little round tables hugged as close as they could get with a white silk cloth and a glowing glass orb in the middle with a lone black candling. It burned bright, perfect straight flaming tip. Many women and the odd occasion of a man were bumping into each other occasionally as they scooted back or wiggled in their seats. Most of them were women, obviously. Only a small smattering of men lingered, one or two with their female partners, a couple men alone, and one pair together. 

So, Harry and Draco didn’t seem too out of place. Jean-Claude was quiet as he gently ushered them toward the front that was next to a stage, and he swiped the reserved sign that sat on the table. 

Draco beamed. “Now this is my kind of service!” 

Harry only shook his head, as Jean-Claude bowed. “Allow us to pleasure you this night.” 

Draco choked out a laugh as Harry let out a sigh without a word while he sat down, and nearly gave a squeak when Jean-Claude clasped the top of his chair and pushed him in. “...” 

Harry’s heart beat so hard and fast that he was positive that despite the laughter and loud crowing that every vampire could hear him or at least smell the blood rising to the surface. 

He crossed his legs, and propped his elbows onto the mesh fabric tablecloth. It was a silvery black material. Draco was sitting primly beside him. 

Harry already felt as though he needed to be excused to get some air, and the show hadn’t even started yet. Gorgeous men were walking around with almost nothing on, prompting some women to squeal and pretend to reach out and touch. 

His heart about exploded when Jean-Claude lowered his chin to where it was hovering above his shoulder. “Please relax, mon petit prise, I wish to give you all I have to offer.” 

Somehow, Harry caught his voice before it could crack. “We shall see, Jean.” 

“Indeed.” As he swept away all the lights in the room went out causing screams of terror, and a few of excitement. 

Draco let out a noise. “How is this legal?” he hissed, and Harry latched onto his voice and the breaths to try and calm the raging inside. ”I mean, in the magical world if this was tried… the Aurors would have a field day!” 

“I think there is an addendum somewhere in the Muggle world about sex selling,” Harry offered freely. “It’s a huge market.” 

“Huh. I’m not sure if that’s one business endeavor that father would approve of, no matter the wealth that it would provide.” 

“Your mum would murder him only to have me raise him so she could murder him again.” 

Draco chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

Harry felt Draco flinch when the familiar seductive voice of Jean-Claude spoke through the darkness. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Guilty Pleasures. Where we make all your fantasies come to life no matter how dark and evil they may be.” 

Draco snorted quietly. “Evil? Right, I’ve seen evil - we both have, this isn’t evil.” 

“If it was, maybe he would have been more popular… or not.” 

Draco snickered. “Yuck!” 

“Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to feel my breath upon your skin?” Harry didn’t have to wonder as the crowd went wild. Not only did Jean-Claude sound as though he belonged on one of those late night sex hotlines, but the more intense the darkness became the more thick and luxurious his voice grew. So much so that even Harry’s skin prickled, and his magic was captivated. 

It wasn’t a rolling or an enthrallment, but it was nearly there, and hearing Draco breathe a bit heavier, Harry knew he wasn’t the only one feeling it. It was like Jean-Claude was talking to him and him alone. Every word that tumbled, Harry could picture even in the dark those fine lips moving. 

It was enough to make anyone stir. 

As he continued to envision a fantasy to all in the crowd, Harry tried to tune him out if only not to succumb to the desire to picture of what the man was painting. 

It was this reason why Harry knew Jean-Claude wasn’t serious, and Harry had dealt with enough people toying with his life. He cared about Jean-Claude as a person and a friend, but that was as far as he could let it get. 

There was no need for Jean-Claude to add him to a list of thousands if only because of the chase and challenge. Harry wasn’t anything special. He wasn’t as beautiful as the copper haired woman at the next table who seemed to be enjoying herself or the dark haired male two tables back that was clutching his partner like a lifeline. 

Harry worked very hard in those moments to block Jean-Claude’s voice from his thoughts. He remembered Professor Snape’s shoddy Occlumency lessons, and he drew upon that experience, and by the time his eyes opened the lights had popped back on, the music was sounding, and there was a beautiful man on stage in a tight white t-shirt, black leather jacket and jeans that probably wouldn’t last. 

From what he heard, his name was Phillip. Harry and Draco were given quite a show, and while Phillip might not have been the most fetching, he had a sexual allure - a quality about him that seemed to be cast around him. As though an aura shown as he began to rotate his hips, dancing in a way that Harry had never seen before. He tried not to look at the tan muscles or the gleaming scars. He tried not to look at the man’s face as his skin warmed beneath the haze. 

“Merlin, I have entered another world,” Draco breathed leaning forward. 

Harry, trying to distract himself from the man removing his clothes in a fashion that shouldn’t be possible, turned to him. “Well, do you like men?” 

“... For tonight? Yeah,” said Draco. “But, maybe I like both.” 

“If all you’ve had is Pansy to work off of, no wonder you would flip to the other side.” 

Draco barked out laughing as drinks were brought to them, on the house courtesy of Jean-Claude. Harry eyed his dubiously, noticing it smelled a bit fruity. “What is this?” 

“It’s not Firewhiskey that’s for sure. Well, bottoms up!” Draco had the smarts to check it for poisons discreetly, and when he necked it back he gagged. “Ulgh, too sweet!” 

“What’s it taste like?” 

“Cherries.” 

“I like cherries.” 

“Probably why we were given them.” 

“I never told him I liked cherries. Then again, I didn’t tell him I was coming tonight.” 

Draco shrugged. “Maybe it’s a vampire thing or it’s a Jean-Claude thing.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, and sipped at his when Draco turned to call for another. It did taste good, and he noticed a couple floating cherries in it. It didn’t taste like alcohol, which made Harry suspect that there was either none or too much. 

He whirled in his seat to see Jean-Claude standing nearby. “You know I’m twenty-two almost twenty-three right?” Harry was feeling a bit cocky, he must admit. Also a bit insulted. 

Jean-Claude glided smoothly toward him. “Is mon petit prise unhappy with the drink?” 

“It doesn’t have anything in it.” He drank the rest of it, and even sucked down the cherry. Draco had managed to claim a more tart looking drink. It was green with a lemon in it. 

Harry didn’t like sour things. 

Jean-Claude grinned. “I assure you it has much in it. Do not let yourself be fooled by things that taste exquisite. They often hide more than meets the eye.” 

“... You speak from experience.” 

“Oui. I shall have you something brought out promptly, but do be careful…” 

“I’m not an alcohol virgin. In Britain you can be seventeen and drink.” 

“Here here!” Draco called out from nowhere. 

“See? He has alcohol, where is mine?” 

“You are feisty tonight, did it ever occur to you that you may have already drank your limit?” 

“... But it doesn’t taste like anything?” 

“Is it supposed to?” 

Harry huffed at the man and looked away. He was feeling exceedingly warm and a bit light-headed, but he thought it was the heavy atmosphere of the club, the smell of liquor and sweat. Phillip was gyrating on the copper haired woman nearby. 

Draco was staring with what he must have thought was a blank expression, but his eyes were wild. 

“Firewhiskey is different,” Draco offered to Jean-Claude. 

“Firewhiskey? I have not heard of such a drink. Does it catch fire? We have one of those if it catches your fancy,” said Jean-Claude. 

Draco shook his head. “No, it tastes like fire.” 

“It’s a whiskey,” said Harry. “Sorry if I insulted you! I’m a bit touchy about my age.” He hadn’t realized what he said or why he said it, but Jean-Claude’s eyes fluttered. 

“Non, no apologies needed. It is indeed true that you do look rather youthful.” 

“So says a vampire over four hundred,” Harry quipped. “Can I have another?” 

“Oui!” He snapped his fingers, and they were greeted with a gorgeous auburn haired man. His hair was so long that Harry was sure it touched his ankles. His eyes were a paler lilac than Draco’s shirt, and he had a very athletically muscular body without going overboard like Buzz the Bouncer. 

“Nathaniel, would you please see to my personal guests? I do believe Draco prefers the Lemon Sour.” 

“Definitely!” said Draco with a smirk. 

“Coming right up.” He flashed Harry the prettiest smile that almost dimmed Jean-Claude’s. He bowed, and the long winding braid flicked over his broad shoulders. He was wearing only a leopard thong, and several women who were obviously regulars called out to him, but they kept using the name Brandon. 

Harry for all of a moment was trying to work out why they were calling him Brandon, and then looked at Jean. “Why do they call him something different?” 

“That is his stage name,” said Jean-Claude. “It seems you are more interested in Nathaniel than Phillip.” 

“Oh, well, he’s okay. I mean, he’s beautiful,” said Harry looking over the gyrating man. “Obviously, but-” 

“It takes more than a pretty face to intrigue Harry,” Draco laughed with a slap to his shoulder.

Harry blinked. “How many have you had in the last three minutes?” 

“No idea! They just kept appearing, I swear I didn’t summon them.” 

“Right…” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “I do apologize. Is this your first time drinking?” 

“No, I’ve been drinking wine since I was a kid,” said Draco shaking his head. 

“I was seventeen when I drank my first,” said Harry, and thinking more about it, his heart ached because the reason he had drank on that day was because of Alastor Moody. 

He must have shown something on his face because Jean-Claude lifted his chin causing him to grow warmer. “You are safe, mon petit prise I won’t allow any harm to come to you under my roof.” 

“I never said that,” said Harry. “You have a nice club, Jean.” 

“Oui, I do. I have poured a lot of energy into making it into what it is today,” he said fondly. “I wish not to see it in tatters,” he lowered his voice to a near whisper, and Harry wouldn’t have caught it had he not been so focused. 

“I’ll try and help you prevent that.” As the drink was brought to him, Harry thanked Nathaniel who beamed at him. He looked young, almost younger than Harry. 

“I do appreciate your willingness to aid me. You have no cause to do such. Since you don’t seem regaled with my dancers, shall we retire to somewhere a little more private to discuss?” 

Harry nodded, and looked at Draco who seemed very preoccupied. “Draco, I’m going to help Jean.” 

Draco looked at him. “You need me to come with you?” 

“No, you enjoy the show.” Harry smiled encouragingly, and with his new drink in hand, he rose and followed Jean-Claude through the throngs of enraptured customers. 

As they swept through the back, Jean-Claude nodded at nearby vampires and other employees, and the music began to lower as they headed down a stone caverned wall draped in black and white. 

Harry did feel a bit like stretchy rubber as he followed the man’s long strides. “Your friend is quite passionate I must say,” said Jean-Claude once they were far enough away from the music that wouldn’t overtake normal voices. 

“Yeah, that’s Draco,” said Harry. “He’s still new to the world really.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, Draco’s been sheltered most of his life… he’s never been in normal society.” 

“Normal? I am a vampire, mon petit prise, what is normal about that?” 

“Very in our world,” said Harry as Jean-Claude opened the door, and waved his hand. 

“After you,” he said with a dashing smile that had Harry averting his gaze as he swept through. It was a typical office with a leather couch. It was nice enough, and he saw schedules hung on a wall, noting that Nathaniel also known as Brandon liked to dance on Monday. 

“You know, far be it from me to question your business methods, but shouldn’t Nathaniel be in your hottest spots? He seems really popular.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Oui, Nathaniel is a beautiful young man. But, he is younger than you are. He is only learning, and throwing him to the abundant crowds so early would not be a healthy decision for one such as him.” 

“Ah,” Harry could understand. “To be honest, I haven’t the foggiest idea what could be causing the vampire murders,” he said placing his drink down on a coffee table. “But, I know it’s not human. It can’t be human or it is human who is using a creature element of some sort. Whatever it is, it’s not of this world. At least it’s not living.” 

“You suspect a zombie perhaps?” 

“Mm… it would have to be one mad zombie, and normally zombies are docile unless they’ve been murdered. If they’ve been murdered then the Necromancer trying to control them often loses control and they will tear anything in their path to get to their obsession. If we can find out why they’re being murdered you might get a clue as to who or what it is,” said Harry. 

“You say often.”

Harry’s eyes flickered. “I might have raised a murdered zombie a time or two. I didn’t mean to though,” he said promptly sitting down as he felt a bit woozy. 

“Did they attack?” 

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Necromancy is an art that a lot of people have lost the true meaning of over the years. In my world necromancy is banned and illegal. It is classified as a Dark Arts, and it can get you a life sentence in wizarding prison, and that’s one place no one wants to go.” 

“Is that why you moved here?” he asked as he fluidly moved to sit beside Harry. Harry couldn’t help but notice as the man moved that he was once again not wearing anything beneath the leather he had on. 

“One of many reasons,” said Harry, pulling his mind back to the conversation. “I didn’t realize what I was until it was pointed out to me. Ignoring the fact that dead things would come to me. First time I was about six or seven. My cousin was a downright arse even as a kid. If you were looking for a reason to neuter yourself from procreating, Dudley was the boy to look at.” Jean-Claude chuckled at this. “Anyway, he and his friends got a hold of the class gerbil. I was the only one who took care of it after the newness wore off, and they killed it. I guess the teachers or whatever flushed it down the toilet.” 

“How unsanitary.” 

“You said it,” Harry agreed. “But, a few days later that same gerbil appears sopping wet on my desk. I didn’t connect it then. I had no idea about magic, and I sure as hell knew nothing about necromancy.” 

“Were you not taught, mon petit prise?” asked Jean-Claude in surprise. 

“Hah! Like I said it was illegal, and it is now more than ever. I didn’t stand a chance to learn any of that until after I left school. I was given a very strong piece of advice from the last person on earth I would ever expect. But, I didn’t take his advice until I woke up to find a murdered friend sleeping beside me. Luckily, the information he gave me was a treasure trove of knowledge.”

“So he mentored you?” 

“Er, I wouldn’t put it like that exactly,” Harry laughed. “I guess? He willed everything to me. I learned through his death.” 

“Ah, death. A slumbering sleep that lasts forever… for humans,” said Jean-Claude. 

“Did you always want to be a vampire?” Harry asked boldly. 

“Non,” said Jean-Claude with a gentle shake of his head. “I was married once to a woman, she died of illness. In my time, illness such as a cold or a fever often resulted in death. I suppose in the end I saw no point either way. Tell me, mon petit prise, did anyone leave you behind?” 

“Lots of people,” said Harry. “You heard what Draco and I were fighting about.” 

“Oui, but it was not my intent to pry for information. I am merely curious.” 

“Draco is a friend I didn’t know I needed until I did,” Harry said leaning back. He was feeling tired all of a sudden, and knew that the lack of sleep might be catching up to him. “We came from opposite sides of life, and through school we hated each other. I mean, we were at each other’s throats. If we could have we would have killed each other.” 

“Interesting. A foe becomes friend.” 

“And friends become foes,” said Harry. “No one liked that I stood up for Draco and his family. No one appreciated what I did, but they don’t realize that I would be long dead if it hadn’t been for them.” 

“You make me more curious. I wish not to ask more of you for this night.” 

“... I really am sorry I don’t have much. Just know it’s not human, and might very well be a Vaundun Priest, a Necromancer, or a witch and wizard commanding some sort of power that they might have no control over. Also, whoever is killing these masters must have been close, close enough to be trusted if not entirely, then just enough to lay their mark.” 

“I may be able to make it work. I do hope so,” said Jean-Claude. 

“Me too.” Harry for a brief second closed his eyes, and for sometime all of the world was lost. He dreamed of everything and yet nothing at all until the tell-tale sign of beeping caused him to jerk suddenly. 

He opened his burning eyes, and realized that he was lying on a leather couch that smelled sweet with a soft white blanket over him. He blinked a few times aware of the contacts sliding around, and remembered that he was at Guilty Pleasures. 

Had he fallen asleep? How? Harry thought with a blink. 

“You’re awake,” said the pleasantly seductive voice causing Harry to whip his head around to see Jean-Claude standing in the doorway. 

“I fell asleep?” 

“You must have been exhausted.” 

“... You didn’t put anything in my drink did you?” he asked grabbing the glass and sniffing it. 

Jean-Claude frowned. “Non, why would I ever do such a thing? Not only would it be intruding, but it would be wholly unfair not to mention illegal.” 

Harry winced. “Sorry.” 

“I understand how little you trust me. I am a vampire and you are human. It is natural.” 

Harry scoffed. “You being a vampire has nothing to do with it,” he said placing the glass down. “Trust me, humans know how to slip things into drinks just as well as anyone else, and my first friend I ever made was a half-giant thank you very much!” 

Harry hadn’t realized that Jean-Claude was staring at him bizarrely because he was truly offended. “Also, one of my parents good friends was a werewolf, and my godson is part werewolf. Not completely, but he was born with werewolf tendencies.” 

“Truly?” Jean-Claude breathed. 

“Yeah. It’s just I’m usually so alert to things that I don’t fall asleep easily around so much noise. I guess there was alcohol in that glass. You seriously need to try Firewhiskey… you can’t drink can you?” 

“Non,” Jean-Claude smiled. “Your friend is having the time of his life out there.” 

“Is he?” Harry laughed. “-And here you’d think I was the straight one and he was not.” 

“He did say he was unsure of himself. Most youths tend to be.” 

“Yeah, but I never had that marrying pressure on me. At least, I managed to escape that whole thing, who knew fighting for your life could come in handy?” Harry laughed as he checked what was beeping. “Oh, it’s Dolph. Can I use your phone? Who knows, it might be about the murders.” 

Jean-Claude nodded. “You are welcome to any time, Harry.” Harry wobbled a bit as he stood, and shook his head wildly causing the man to chuckle. “You look precious when you first wake darling, I must say.” 

“... If you weren’t a vampire, I’d insist you need glasses, and speaking of. I really need out of these contacts…” Harry said squeezing the point between his eyes. He stumbled over to the desk all the while ignoring the laughter from the vampire behind him. 

He was right on the money. Another vampire murder at Hillcrest Cemetery. He hung up, and turned. “Another murder. I hate to say anything good about this, but I might be able to find something if I get there fast enough. Usually, when they call me in they know better than to touch the body. Last few times they touched everything, and I couldn’t even get a signature.” He was already pulling out the moleskin pouch tucked in his sleeve, and Jean-Claude watched with intrigue as he pulled out the same manila folder in pristine condition from such a small place. 

“See? I bet your so-called witches can’t do that,” said Harry smirking. 

“Non.” 

“That’s why I’m a wizard.” 

“I’m beginning to understand your meaning.” 

“Not to mention, I am a man.” 

“Yes, I am well aware of your gender,” said Jean-Claude with a half smile. “Shall I get your friend?” 

“He’s having fun isn’t he?” 

“Oui, last I saw he was dancing with Phillip.” 

Harry laughed. “He was dancing? Man, I can’t believe I missed it! I could have so used that memory as blackmail material!” he huffed. “Get him to do the laundry for the week or the dishes. Let him stay, I’ll try and be back before dawn.” 

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” assured Jean-Claude. 

Harry smiled, Draco didn’t need it, but it was nice that Jean-Claude offered. “Thank you, and do you have a personal restroom anywhere? My eyeballs need some relief… and fast.” Not to mention his screaming bladder. 

Jean-Claude waved his hand. “Right behind you. I shall tell Draco of your leaving.” 

It took Harry all of ten minutes, and he was not only back in his glasses, but came out a little more refreshed as he tucked the pouch away, and made for the door only for it to open and Nathaniel was standing there fully clothed. 

He was wearing a pair of nice hip-hugging stonewash jeans with a multitude of rips, and the shirt was an auburn as his hair making his physique well known. “Hello, I hope you don’t mind but Jean-Claude asked me to accompany you.” 

Harry smiled back. He couldn’t help but like the younger man instantly. They were almost the same height. Harry was a mere inch shy, and so it was nice looking at a man straight across rather than always craning his neck. 

“I wouldn’t mind, but is that what you want, Nathaniel?”

“I don’t mind!” Nathaniel had an infectious tone as though everything excited him. 

Nathaniel trailed a few feet after him through the club, Harry tried to crane his neck to see Draco but for all the bodies he simply could not. “Ah man, I wanted to see him being silly!” Harry huffed. 

Nathaniel laughed softly. “Sometimes being vertically challenged has its downfall.” 

“You’re not kidding,” Harry agreed. He smiled at Buzz the Bouncer, the vampire nodded at both of them as they stepped out beneath the glow of neon sign. A healthy breeze flowed over Harry allowing his head to clear somewhat, which was a good thing. He was going to need all eyes at the cemetery, and his head needed to be in the game. 

“You and your partner must be very trusting of each other,” said Nathaniel once the music and crowds had died away and they walked beneath the lit streetlights toward the riverscape. 

“Partner?” Harry laughed. “No, Draco is just a friend. A really good friend,” he assured. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate.” 

“No, you had no cause to think otherwise, and I _ am _ gay,” said Harry with a shrug. “Draco didn’t know, but I think he might be inclined to both.” 

“Well, I can tell that you have a good friendship.” 

“We do, strangely enough we work very well together… except during times when he forgets to pick up after himself. I’m not a maid you know.” Nathaniel laughed some more as they rounded the corner, and Harry’s car came into sight. 

Harry was surprised that Nathaniel got in with him. “I hope you don’t mind.” He thought that Nathaniel was just walking him to the car out of courtesy, not that he was going with him. 

“It’s fine, but you might be waiting. I’d hate to leave you in the car for long,” said Harry. 

“It’s okay. Whatever Jean-Claude wants.” 

Harry recognized the submissive tone, and instead of quarrying over it he nodded as he started the engine and pulled out as Nathaniel tugged his belt over his chest. “Draco doesn’t really need to be watched over. He might be a little loopy and intoxicated, but he can change to clear headed in a blink if something goes awry.” 

“It never hurts to be safe,” said Nathaniel softly as he rolled down the window. Some strands of auburn hair began to fly as Harry turned and crossed over the bridge. 

“I hope I find something concrete. I don’t want to see Jean in trouble,” said Harry. “I admit I have no clue what could be causing this. It isn’t anything human or at least obviously human. What do you know about the Master of the City?” Instantly, Nathaniel stiffened. Harry didn’t need night vision to notice. “Sorry is that too personal? I’m just worried. Jean insinuated that he might be accused if I don’t find anything.” 

“It’s true. Jean-Claude is… different to the rest of them,” said Nathaniel. “He’s done a lot for me, and a lot of other vampires. He’s managed to keep us from being homeless through the worst times.” 

“You’re not a vampire,” said Harry. 

“No, I am a were,” said Nathaniel. “Is that an issue?” he asked nervously. 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “My first friend was a half-giant. I think I’ll be repeating that a lot. It seems a lot of humans around here have issues with the supernatural.” 

“You bet they do. They’re fascinated enough to look at us during the cover of night where they think it’s safe, but come morning they pretend we don’t exist.” 

“Draco and I come from a world where the supernatural is not supernatural because everything is. My godson’s father was a werewolf,” he offered. “My first friend, as I said is a half-giant. I had a part goblin Professor in school…” 

Nathaniel yelped. “Goblin?” 

“Yeah, greedy little bastards - especially the ones that own the bank. Oh, boy was I terrified of facing them a few years ago? But, Professor Flitwick was the nicest and most generous Professor! I think he was the nicest of them all, and he never treated anyone different. He was a whiz at dueling.” 

“I heard goblins were akin to ghouls. It’s just another term for it. So I’m a bit confused?” 

Harry blinked at him. “You mean graveyard halflings?” 

Nathaniel nodded. “I think so. I admit I don’t know much to be honest with you. But, you say you had a goblin Professor?” 

“Part goblin. He wasn’t full, and the bank tellers are goblins, they own the banks in my world.” 

“... I have never heard of such a thing.” 

“I guess not,” said Harry. “I don’t think even MACUSA employs goblins. In fact, they might be on the illegal side here. I’m not sure. I admit I haven’t kept up with that side of the news.” 

“I’ve heard of MACUSA, but I have no idea what it is or what it does.” 

“It’s the magical government within the American government. I haven’t paid too much attention except to get my citizenship.” Which had been way too easy once they heard his name. They might not be so wild about him like in Britain, but he was still well known enough to be given free passage and citizenship. Not to mention gold went a long way to speeding up red tape. 

Harry however was thinking more about Nathaniel mentioning ghouls, and how America seemed completely sold on the holy idea a little too much. Most cemeteries have a natural defense against ghouls, but it wasn’t unconcentrated ground that the religious types always talked about. It was Death Magic. Every time something died and was put into the ground, death magic was released. It was like a small sacrifice given towards the overall protection of the plot of land. So when a graveyard stops being used, the magic dries up and there’s nothing left to protect it. Ghouls were created when the ground loses its protection, and when someone sensitive to the magic loses its protection. 

Harry had been lost in thought, and almost forgot about Nathaniel sitting beside him as they pulled into the hill like valley of the cemetery. He’d been here a half a dozen times performing a raising. 

“Sorry if I’m quiet. I was thinking about what you said.” 

“What did I say?” asked Nathaniel curiously. 

“Ghouls. I guess I didn’t think about it before, because the only real ghoul I have met was just an annoying pest that made background noise in an attic,” Harry laughed. “An old friend kept one as a pet.” 

“A pet?” Nathaniel pulled a hilarious expression. “Why?” 

“I’ve asked myself why on a lot of things when it came to that family, and I still have no answers. But, you might have answered our question… yet I don’t understand. Ghouls can’t be controlled… they’re rabid, but the markings and the fact that nothing is left.” Harry’s eyes had narrowed as he parked on the side of the road.

Dolph and the rest of the gang were far off, and a bright line of yellow tape forbade anyone from crossing. “Dammit, I don’t know that LEO,” said Harry reaching over between Nathaniel’s legs to the console and opening it to find his badge. “They like to give me rubbish for my age.” 

“How old are you if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Almost twenty-three. You?” 

“Eighteen,” Nathaniel admitted sheepishly. 

“Least you look eighteen, I look fifteen or sixteen.” He grabbed his identification, and ignored the standard issued gun in the console, as the only reason he fought for it was because he could. It wasn’t like he ever used it, but like one of his mentors had told him. He could never be too careful. 

That man hated the way Harry worked with only magic and used no guns or other weaponry, and yet that same man often called him with side-jobs. Funny how that worked out. 

Harry took off his glasses and switched them for another pair. These were old and well worn, he’d had them since third year at Hogwarts. Hermione at times had her own form of brilliance, and the magic still lingered as he slipped them on. It wasn’t perfect vision, but it allowed him to see at night. 

“I’ll be back soon,” said Harry. “You want to listen to music or something?” He handed Nathaniel the keys and slipped out. 

As he made his way across the field of gleaming headstones, the police officer minding the area gave him one very suspicious look, and prepared to open his mouth when Harry almost shoved the badge and ID into his face. “Here on business.” He didn’t bother waiting to be teased or belittled about how young he looked and slipped beneath the tape after raising it. 

Rudolph Storr was a massive hulking man, and reminded Harry of a Slytherin beater. He had a plain look, but had a handsome good-natured quality about him. When he wasn’t on the job. He may not have any love for vampires and other supernatural like most cops, but Harry would give him credit that Storr did the best job he could under a tight budget, and shitty circumstances. 

Zerbrowski smirked and let out a long whistle. “Well hello there, little Harry, did we interrupt a good time?

Harry took the offered gloves, and ignored the fact that they were size small. “Actually I fell asleep at a strip-club,” he hummed causing anyone nearby to laugh. 

Zerbrowski grinned. “Oh really? Must have been one boring stripclub.” 

“Not at all.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t card ya!” said one detective nearby. 

“Nah, the owner knows me well enough to know I’m more than old enough. Now, what do we have here?” 

It was two bodies this time, one from an open grave itself with only a head and a few riblets left, the other was hollowed out from the inside, and even with the color of night he could tell that the blood was coating the ground liberally. Several detectives were covering their noses. Harry had learned long ago to breathe through his mouth, despite the taste of metal that sometimes stung at his tongue it was better than getting a big whiff of blood. 

Everyone backed up as Harry circled, knelt down, and ran a finger along the ground. He focused his magic into the soil in hopes of getting some sort of reading even with the gloves. The ground was concentrated in Death Magic, and Nathaniel’s mention of ghouls was becoming a lot more solid as he saw the almost human handprint on the open coffin. It wasn’t all the way tainted yet, but the magic was getting there. Too many summons in the same graveyard could also turn the ground into rot. It sucked everything away. 

What was bad was the fact that these weren’t vampires, but it was a similar MO. Had the culprit gone mad? Did the taste of blood and death attract it enough to deviate? If so that meant that it could be a human controlling something and having devolved. A serial killer with a creature MO. 

“You’re getting your nice clothes dirty,” Zerbrowski teased. 

Harry liked Zerbrowski. He was always easy to talk and quick with a smirk. He made fun of Harry’s young looks, but he wasn’t extreme about it. He didn’t do it to be mean. He was a good sort even if Harry sometimes wanted to hex him. . 

“It’s okay, it’s my friend’s turn to do laundry anyway,” said Harry. “I’m thinking ghouls,” he said standing. 

“But this is holy ground, I thought only dead cemeteries had ghouls,” said Dolph appearing over Harry all of a sudden. It wasn’t exactly accurate to say that he was hanging over Harry’s shoulder because he was damn well hanging over Harry’s head and entire body. 

“Actually, I hate to ruin what facts you know, but a cemetery is not holy ground so much as it’s concentrated Death Magic.” 

Dolph grunted. He hated magic, but not in the medieval way like the Dursleys. He hated it because it made his job harder and it made little sense to him. 

“You can consider every death like a noble sacrifice. It goes into the ground and renourishes the land, protecting the area from creatures in the vicinity. It’s usually why dogs and wolves don’t dig bodies up unless the Death Magic has vanished. It’s a natural protection. I can feel it. I do wonder how the Ghouls got here and why.” He had passed a couple old cemeteries nearby, and thought maybe to check there. “Also, that’s not a vampire... “ he pointed. 

He learned that one was a caretaker and the other had been dug up. What the hell was going on with that?

“How can you tell?” asked Zerbrowski. “All look the same to me.” 

“It’s not more how they look rather how they feel to me,” said Harry. 

“Vampires are dead,” Dolph grunted. 

“No, no they’re not dead,” Harry corrected. “They are very much alive, but on a much higher ma- er- energy wavelength than the rest of us.” He should try and avoid using the word magic too much. Dolph had a habit of going red in the face when things got complicated, and magic to him was very complicated. 

“Tell me about ghouls then,” said Dolph with a grunt. “I thought they don’t travel.” 

“They don’t,” said Harry. “They don’t have the logic or any reasoning skills. They are barely above animals when it comes to intelligence. They came from somewhere outside. Maybe one of the few older cemeteries we passed. I would have to get a feel for the area to confirm if that were so. Anyway, ghouls are mindless, and most will tell you that no one has any idea how ghouls come to be, but they don’t have access to ancient tomes. Ghouls are in fact former witches, wizards, animators, even vampires and weres that have a lot of energy even in death. Also, too many summonings in the same graveyard can also corrupt the magic bringing ghouls out along with the zombie you’re calling. Magic doesn’t usually die. It mostly lingers waiting for something to attach itself to. It’s why putting them in the ground or cremating is the safest. In the ground the magic is released into the earth which nourishes the area, and gives new life. Cremation, the magic is contained. But, that magic over time can corrupt if it’s not used or replenished. That’s how you get ghouls.” 

“You’re saying a lot of stuff I hardly understand,” said Zerbrowski. “So you’re saying ghouls attacked, but they can’t have gotten here?” 

“Not on their own. Someone has to be in control, how they are in control is something else entirely. No, I think it might be an Animator, Voodoo Priest, or someone with strong enough skills to control a ghoul. If you can find out how they are doing it, we might be able to find who is doing it. Ghouls either attack or hide, and to control a Ghoul… there must be something behind it. Some sort of magic that keeps them under control. I’ve never heard of anything that could control a ghoul, but there’s always a first time for everything.”

“You’re sure it’s not a zombie? They can be controlled,” said Dolph. 

“I don’t think it’s a zombie. Not even a mad zombie who was murdered and is after it’s attacker. If that were so you’d see carnage in the streets or it would be called in, and flesh eating zombies don’t travel in packs. But, you shouldn’t be looking for a ghoul or a pack of ghouls. You need to be looking for the person controlling the ghouls.”

“Great, we’re back to square one,” Dolph grunted. 

“Not exactly,” said Harry. “If such a person is able to control a ghoul, they have to be skilled. Also they would likely smell really bad.” 

“Like Zerbrowski after a run?” teased a Detective nearby causing Zerbrowski to smirk. 

“Only because I smell like all man, what about you Artie? What do you smell like? Flowers and cinnamon?” 

“Least my wife enjoys my scent what about yours?” 

“Point taken.” 

Harry snickered softly at the byplay as he turned to Dolph. “I don’t mean your run of the mill witches or third rate animators. I mean, this is high grade skills that not many have. You can probably nix over half of so called witches and Animators in the vicinity.” 

“Could you do it?” asked Dolph seriously. 

Harry’s expression pinched thoughtfully as he looked at the ground. He was certain that he could get at least one ghoul under Imperius. If it worked like it did on Goblins, but for how long? What else could control something or someone else’s will? Harry wracked his brain, thinking about the runes he’d seen a few times in the books Voldemort had willed to him. 

“Maybe. I might be able to control at least one, but I’m not sure if I could do a pack,” he admitted. “There are many spells that can be used to control and detain something, most likely a runic type of magic. It might fall under Voodoo or Vaudun.” 

“How many of those do we have around here?” 

“Mmm, about a dozen or so known ones, but as Vaudun is frowned upon by most practicing Animators and your version of witches won’t touch it, I’d say there were some in hiding, and it’s likely the ones in hiding you’re looking for.” 

“Why don’t you approve?” asked Dolph. 

“It would be akin to Satan worshipping.” 

“I didn’t take you for being religious,” said Zerbrowski. 

“I’m not,” Harry assured. “I respect others’ religions, but I believe in life and death. I believe in faith coming from within, and the world around me.” 

“Sounds religious.” 

“Not in the way you would think.” Harry shook his head. “Is that all or do you need me for more? I have a friend in the car, I don’t want to leave him for too long.” 

“Yeah, get going. If I have something more I’ll let you know.” 

“Please do because if this person keeps attacking stronger and stronger vampires we may have bigger problems on our hands than a few corpses.” 

Dolph grunted in acknowledgment, and Zerbrowski sighed. “Do you know the Master of the City?” 

“No, but I’ve heard some awful things, and the good strong vampires who prefer to sit out of the powerplay might be unwillingly drawn in. Some don’t want the courts to reverse their decision; some enjoy being able to walk down the streets and make a living. You might not have agreed with the standing of the courts, but it has made your job easier, even if this doesn’t look it,” Harry waved his hand at the tarnished grounds. 

“You believe in that nonsense of vampires being people too?” 

“Yes and no,” said Harry turning to look up at Dolph. “I believe they are _ beings _, like Centaurs though they wish not to be classified as such.” 

“Centaurs? You’re telling me that is real?” Zerbrowski asked wide-eyed. 

“Oh yeah, very real,” said Harry smirking. “There was a large herd of them in the forest near my school. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of them.” He loved shocking these people with small bits of magical information. It made the whole merging of magicals and non magicals so much more interesting. “I believe that every species deserves their own laws and government, and to believe they are human is kind of foolish, but to believe they are monsters is also foolhardy. It’s one of those thin lines, and accidentally crossing over on either side can be hard for anyone. Even me, who has seen all kinds of different beings and creatures with their own feelings, minds, and motives. Instead of treating them like monsters or trying to pretend and treat them like people, maybe treat them as their own individual? It’s kind of like not every Catholic Priest is a pedophile to be.” He looked at Zerbrowski who seemed to squirm. “Or every male outside a school is hunting for something they shouldn’t be. Try and think that way and you might find yourself on the line much easier.” 

He knew he had hit a nerve, especially with Zerbrowski, though Dolph looked dubious, yet he still always took Harry seriously and that’s what he appreciated about men like him. He might inherently feel they are monsters, but he still does his job fairly even with his prejudice and preconceived notions. And if Harry could teach even one person on law enforcement that being treated fairly was more than a right and privilege then he felt as if he’d done his job.


	4. Chapter Three

# Chapter Three

It was almost three in the morning by the time Harry pulled into the near empty lot across from Guilty Pleasures. Nathaniel had been listening to some pop music when he had returned, and he’d also been worried when he smelled blood. 

Harry quickly changed out of his glasses, and stowed his ID back in the console as they got out. Jean-Claude was standing at the door still as death when they arrived. His hair blew in the summer wind, and for a moment Harry would have thought he was a perfect marble mannequin in one of those high end shops that Draco loved so much. He was really a sight. Harry couldn’t help but admit that part of him wished Jean-Claude’s teasing and advances were very much real. 

It couldn’t be. It just wasn’t in Harry’s nature to believe that someone like Jean-Claude could see anything more than a scruffy too short and too thin man. Yes, he could clean up well, but he wasn’t a natural beauty. Not like Jean-Claude. 

But, then he turned, his deep blue eyes tracing Harry from head to toe. “I smell blood, mon petit prise. It is not your own thankfully.” 

He started to become warm and his blood pressure spiked at the critical eye that roved across him as if picking out minute details. Jean-Claude reached out as if to touch only to draw back, and clasp his hand to his opposite wrist. 

“No, it was a groundskeeper,” said Harry. “Are you okay? Why are you standing out here?” 

“Buzz needed a break,” But as he said this, Harry noticed he was hiding something beneath his tone. It was a strain that he didn’t have before. His face closed off, and yet it told Harry a lot. Jean-Claude had a certain way about him that Harry had noticed when he was under a certain amount of pressure. A strange quirk he could feel through the darkness of the man’s perfect facade. 

Nathaniel was looking from one to the other when Jean-Claude nodded. “You should head home, Nathaniel.” It wasn’t a suggestion more than it was a command. 

“Thank you Master…” 

“Ah, what did I say about that?” 

“J-Jean-Claude,” said Nathaniel with a small smile. “It was nice meeting you Harry.” 

“You too, Nathaniel, thanks for keeping me company!” 

Nathaniel’s smile widened a bit as he turned and disappeared, his braid bouncing as he did. “Is it okay to let him walk alone?” 

“Do you worry, mon petit prise?” asked Jean-Claude suddenly very close. Harry hadn’t heard or felt him move, but the finger brushing his jaw had him twitching. 

“I do. He’s only eighteen. Really, Jean-Claude?” Harry couldn’t help but look at him with disapproval.

“He needed livelihood and I offered it,” said Jean-Claude unabashed. “It is what he wishes.” 

“But, is it what’s healthiest?” asked Harry. “He seems gentle…” 

“Ah, he is, but if he does not have this job he is forced to do other jobs… ones that are much less appropriate.” Harry frowned when Jean-Claude didn’t elaborate. “It is a tough life for a were in some communities; but you did not hear that from me.” He dropped his wrist to let it dangle. 

“Just don’t let him get taken advantage of…” 

“Such a heart you have, and it beats continuously,” sighed Jean-Claude. “I must do what I can. Even at a cost,” he murmured. “Can’t let it happen.” 

“Can’t let what happen?” 

Jean-Claude shook his head and stared up at the darkened sky tainted with red. “It must be so.” It was like he was talking to himself. “I’ve had worse. It is nothing for you to bother with.” 

“You have lost me completely. Please don’t start riddling me to death,” Harry couldn’t help but pout. 

Jean-Claude smiled and leaned forward. “But, if I do not riddle you then you won’t look so cute when you have that expression of confusion and perplexity.” He used one finger to touch Harry on the tip of the nose. 

Harry cleared his throat, trying not to notice how deep the blue went in Jean-Claude’s eyes. “What’s going on with you? Is Draco okay?” 

“He is fine. You need not worry over him. I do believe he has made good friends with Phillip.” 

Harry laughed. “Really? That’s good to know. He needs to get out and live a little.” 

“What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Do you not wish to live a little?” 

“I live pretty well these days,” said Harry. “I have no complaints, but there’s something you’re not telling me,” he pointed out. “So don’t try to distract me.” 

Jean-Claude’s grin became more sinuous if that was possible, his eyes sparkled beneath the glowing light, and the red made his skin look drenched. Harry was convinced that he could be covered in sewage and would still make him look sexy as hell. “Why ever would I do that?” 

“A question with a question.” 

“You did not ask a question. You merely stated your observations.” 

“_ And _ am I right?” 

Jean-Claude went silent for all of a heart-beat, and then. “Perhaps, they wish for me to do something I am not inclined to do. You should get your friend and head home for the night. It is late.”

Harry knew when a conversation closed and he wouldn’t be allowed in again. Jean-Claude was closing off, more than he ever had before, which concerned him greatly. Usually, Jean-Claude couldn’t keep him around long enough. So what had changed in the time of him leaving to now? 

Before he could say anything more or try and prod in a fruitless endeavor, Buzz returned. “Did you enjoy your break?” 

“I did, thank you, Mast-” 

“Ah, ah! You boys, what am I going to do with you?” Jean-Claude drawled. “I am no master to you.” 

Harry watched the exchange, a flicker of stress graced Jean-Claude before disappearing and Buzz’s eyes averted as though he did not agree. “Jean-Claude.” 

“Excellent,” he turned back to Harry. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I shall retrieve your friend. You really should get home,” he turned and disappeared inside before Harry could call him back. 

“What is going on?” he murmured, and Buzz shifted awkwardly. “Are you guys okay? What on earth changed since I’ve been gone?” 

Buzz shook his head. “It’s best not spoken of. Harry is it?” 

“Yep! I’m Harry!” 

“You smell of blood.” 

“That’s what everyone is saying. I should have cleaned up,” said Harry bending down to check his knees where he saw a big dark stain. “It was a gruesome scene,” he explained. 

Buzz observed him. “How old are you?” 

“Be twenty three on the last day of this month,” said Harry. “You’ll keep an eye on Nathaniel won’t you?” 

Buzz tilted his head. “Does he concern you?” 

“He worries me. He’s only eighteen you know,” said Harry. “What’s taken him so long? Should I go in and get him?” 

“You should wait out here.” 

“...” Harry wasn’t enjoying this byplay. Something was definitely off, and he had no idea what it was. It certainly wasn’t Draco, no matter how intoxicated the man would always react first. So, what was it that they didn’t want him to see?

“Is she here?” Harry asked suddenly, and while Buzz didn’t answer, his back stiffened. “I see. You don’t have to say anything, Buzz. I’m guessing Jean denied her something and she’s angry.” Again, Buzz said nothing, but his eyes slid to the side. Harry stepped closer and leaned up on his toes to look the man in the eye. Buzz turned his gaze back to Harry. “I’m concerned about him. He’s a good friend of mine, and I don’t want to see him hurt.” 

“He is my Master,” Buzz breathed. “He is master to many of us, and she hates him for it. She has always hated him.” 

“Probably because he knows how to run a business without threat and fear,” said Harry and Buzz gave a sharp nod. 

“He does not want you in the middle. Please… please wait out here. I am ordered to stop you.” 

“... Let me ask you a question. If I march in there would I help him or hurt him worse?” 

Buzz looked over at the door. “I am ordered to stop you.” 

“-And if you can’t? Will it see you hurt?” 

“No, Jean-Claude does not work that way,” said Buzz. “He will be disappointed, but… it might help him,” he confessed. 

Harry smiled at this. He understood completely. “Okay then. I’m going to touch your shoulder. It won’t do anything but keep you in place for exactly thirty seconds.” Harry reached up and did so, Buzz’s eyes widened when he felt the magic. “Just thirty seconds. I can run past, and he can blame me, not you. I don’t let friends go in alone you know. I’m a big boy.” 

He turned to go in, and Buzz tried to move only to find that he could not. Harry turned to look at him. “I’m a wizard, Buzz. Not a witch. Your version of witches are little more than circus acts compared to what Draco and I can do. There is nothing the Master of the City can do to me that hasn’t already been tried.” He winked, and disappeared, noting that the blonde human was nowhere in sight. 

It was quiet when he swept through the curtain to the main stage that was lit up. He scanned the area only to hear the sound of crashing, and quickly headed down the hallway. 

“You cannot deny me, Jean-Claude! I will see you locked in a cross-wired coffin if you do not produce the Necromancer right now!” 

“Where is his friend? We could always use him as bait,” said a low thick voice that had Harry’s eyes narrowed. 

“I apologize, but his friend has gone home with a partner,” said Jean-Claude in the most pleasant tone as though he were talking about the weather. Harry flinched when he heard a strange crunching sound, and Jean-Claude let out a strained moan. 

“How does that feel for not answering my question?” 

“If that is what you wish of me, master,” breathed Jean-Claude. 

“Ooh, I hate you and your pretty eyes! I want to pluck them out!” sneered the female. 

“Shall I?” 

“He’ll kill you Aubrey, you’re not good enough. Now, where is that Necromancer!” 

Harry reached down into his boot, and withdrew a familiar strong wand that resonated a particular aura. Much different to the holly wand he usually kept. Lately, he hadn’t had a need for it, not since his last nightly activities with his mentor; that man brought destruction and mayhem and he reveled in it.

Harry admitted that he sometimes reveled in it to, being normal was just so boring. He tucked it beneath his sleeve, and then held his head high before marching forward, and pushing the door open. 

Not only was the office overturned, lamps had been crushed and smashed, but standing in the middle was not what Harry expected. 

It was a little girl. No more than twelve by the looks of it maybe even younger. She had flowing wispy pale hair that could rival Draco’s and she wore an elegant well tailored gray silk dress that flowed around her. She had the chubby child cheeks that were pink and rosy that conveyed innocence, but her eyes. Harry saw a demon in her eyes. A well honed killer who never reached puberty or she had barely hit when she was turned, and it changed her. It twisted her into what he was seeing. 

Beside her was a massively tall and muscular human servant. He was bald with dark narrow eyes, and kept close to the child vampire. Harry could see a soldier’s stance, which told him that he had a military history. 

Also amongst them was an auburn haired vampire with deep brown eyes. His fangs were on display, and was he drooling? He had a glint of insanity to him. He looked like the type of man that might be good enough for some strip-clubs, but not Guilty Pleasures. Not unless Jean-Claude was forced to hire him. There was also a quiet blond man sitting in the far back behind Jean-Claude’s desk. He wasn’t saying much. His eyes looked dark and dead, and he was watching everything casually.

Jean-Claude was cradling his wrist, and yet his face showed nothing as the young vampire girl went on a rampage. 

“Is it me you’re looking for?” said Harry, infinitely amused by how he surprised what was easily a centuries old vampire because the child snapped her head around as though possessed to look up at him. 

It was nice being looked up at for once, too bad it was a child vampire. 

“... Mon petit prise!” Jean-Claude hissed.

Harry turned his gaze away from the entourage as if they weren’t worth his time, and crossed over to stand with Jean-Claude. “Sorry Jean-Claude, I have this problem with following the rules. It wasn’t Buzz’s fault. I’m more than I look after all.” 

Jean-Claude couldn’t help but twitch his lips. “Indeed, it is why you are petit prise!” he said with a little life in his voice. 

“So you say, what happened here.” He reached for Jean’s wrist when there was a growl. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” asked the little girl. 

Harry blinked. “Oh, who are you then? I’m Harry, Harry Potter!” he smirked as he pretended not to know who she was, but no way Jean-Claude would bow or submit to someone so young if she wasn’t important. 

She was the Master of the City. Harry didn’t need to be told anything. 

Instantly, he saw his effect on her, the auburn haired guy flinched, the tall man was frowning, and the girl’s face changed from it’s doll like appearance to one of near hysteria. 

“You dare, human, to not acknowledge me for who and what I am?” 

“Sorry, never seen you before. In fact, if I had seen you in here, I would be having some serious words with Jean about his customers.” He looked over as the man twitched and hid himself behind a lock of his hair as though he was trying not to smile. This only served to make her more angry. “You know, if you really want to keep cover of what or who you are, coming into a strip-club looking like a little girl might not be in your best interests.” 

“Harry,” Jean-Claude breathed urgently. “Do not start a scene.” 

“Yes, Harry, causing a scene will get you killed,” the girl cooed as she stalked right up to him.

“So, you want me to lie to you then?” Harry observed the girl that everyone seemed so frightened of. He agreed that she had power, but the once human part of her brain was dead. No growth. She aged as a vampire and became stronger and powerful, but with her brain not fully developed she was nothing more than a doll. Harry couldn’t fear her. “You are what you are. Just as I am a short-shit and always will be. You’re a little one and always will be too.” 

Oh, he hit a nerve because the girl shot toward him like a bullet, and he let her pin him to the nearby wall. Her fingers clasped around his neck, and yet he didn’t flinch as her nails dug into his skin. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with human. I can break your neck in a single second. Do not be fooled by my cute looks.”

“Did I say you looked cute?” Harry asked not even flinching at the grip on his throat. She smelled sweet like honey. “Like I said, I haven’t lied to you. You’re about as cute as a spider, and I don’t find spiders appealing at all.” 

He then looked her straight in the eyes, and he could feel her trying to bore into him. Her teeth unclenched and showed their tiny pin-prick fangs as she tried to dig through his mind, and yet all she met was nothing more than a wall. Harry, not wanting this creepy girl to touch him too much more, drew upon a small trickle of magic and pushed it through causing the sound of hissing and a burning stench like bacon on a grill. The child demon drew back as though she’d been stung as the hulking mass of human stepped forward threateningly. The redhead was also moving, and the blonde had risen - eyes wide as he stared at the scene. 

She released him, and brought her hands up to reveal that they were coated in black and burning. Jean and the other vampire drew in breaths when they saw the girl’s hands blackened. 

“What have you done to me!” she growled wide-eyed. 

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who tried to pry into my mind. It’s best you leave that part of me alone.” 

“You’re a pyrokinetic witch! Did someone forget to tell me?” the girl snapped her head toward Jean-Claude. 

“I didn’t know, Master Nikolaos.” Ah, Harry had a name to the unenchanting face. 

“No, I am not one of your so-called witches. I am much more than that. But I assure you, trying to play in my mind won’t win you any favors. You will burn more if you even try. You’d have to kill me first.” 

“That can be arranged,” hissed Nikolaos. 

“Don’t you want something from me? If you attack and kill me you will never know who is hunting your vampires. Hell, for all I know they could be targeting you next. Breaking down your defenses, and preparing to head straight for _ you _.” 

“How can you be sure of that?” asked the blond that he didn’t know the name of. 

“Two dead masters? Seems like someone has something against the strong and powerful of St. Louis.” 

Nikolaos sneered at the blond. “Quiet you!” She turned back toward Harry. “Jean-Claude told me you didn’t know.” 

“Not then. You have someone controlling a pack of ghouls. Find that someone and you have your killer.” 

“How do I know it’s not you?” 

“You don’t. It could very well be an Animator, and I think I could control a ghoul.” 

The auburn haired vampire glared at Harry. “You just admitted to it? Master I could play with him for you.” 

“Well, considering I have been here most of the night, and I was asleep on Jean’s couch when I got the call, I think you can put two and two together unless it’s too much for you?” Harry tried with a smile. “Are you old enough to have been stopped from having math covered in your education?”

Harry was really good at bullshit. He needed to learn more about them before he had a chance against them. A millenia old vampire, child or not had all the strength and none of the sanity. He would have to move carefully, the human servant nearby was watching him like a hawk. He was sure he could take the redhead, and if Draco was here they could take the others out. 

He looked quickly to see Jean-Claude watching with a closed off expression. He kept glancing between Harry and Nikolaos as if trying to see something. An opening or a weakness, but Jean-Claude wasn’t the type to act unless he knew what the outcome would be. 

The redhead was moving toward Harry, Jean-Claude bristled. 

“Aubrey…” Nikolaos warned when the man took a threatening step toward him. “Stay back.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

Nikolaos stepped back. “What do you want?” 

“I don’t want anything, but I don’t quite understand why you are attacking Jean-Claude when he has done everything you’ve asked of him. He came straight to me, and I agreed to help.” 

Nikolaos’ eyes narrowed. “He refused to hand you over to me. I demanded your presence and he said no!” 

“Did it occur to you that maybe Jean-Claude knew I wouldn’t go with him to meet some strange vampire without a reason and didn’t even bother to ask? Which is more important to you? The answers you seek or a petty demand that may very well have an outcome of no help at all?” Of course, Harry would never deny helping Jean-Claude. He hoped the man knew that, but this little girl didn’t have to know. 

“I think he was trying to protect you. A silly little human. He’s always done that,” said Nikolaos crossing her arms primly. “Anyone with a pretty face, male or female. It doesn’t matter to him,” she spat in disgust. 

Harry smiled. “I’m not that pretty, Nikolaos, and trust me when I say I can take care of myself.” 

She looked down at her hands and back up at him. “How did you do that?” 

“I sort of did it, and sort of not did it. It’s a bit confusing, and a little bit personal. Some wizards can channel sacrificial magic. Anyone who touches me with the real intent on harming me will often be shocked or burned or any number of unpleasant things.” 

“How is it you can look her in the eyes?” Aubrey demanded. “Why can’t she read you?”

“Why not?” 

“You’re just a witch! No way you have the power to deflect her!” 

Harry let out a tired sigh. “I wish people would stop using that term. I am not a witch. I am very much a male, thank you. And I doubt you’ve met any real witches otherwise you might not be alive right now or if you were you wouldn’t look very pretty. The only magic users you’ve ever known are those who use magic outside their bodies, which have just enough sensitivity to take it in and expel it. I am a wizard, born and bred. It’s in my blood.” 

“Maybe I should try it?” 

“You don’t want to do that,” Harry warned. “You might not live through the night. I’m toxic.” Of course, he was bluffing by now, but any chance to keep them off guard, and it seemed to be working. “The last person who stole my blood ended up very dead.” No lie there. 

Nikolaos frowned heavily. “Why are you here in St. Louis?” 

“You don’t know much about Europe do you?” 

“Necromancy is illegal,” said Jean-Claude, and Harry nodded. 

“Plus, this city just so happens to have the best Animating firm in the US, and so it makes sense as to why I’m here. My family also owned a bit of property, coincidentally most of that property is here on the front.” He enjoyed Nikolaos’ surprise. “I’m not here to take over or do something stupid. Just live a good life, and make it count. Jean-Claude happens to be a friend, and he asked a favor of me. I agreed. Whoever is doing this is someone you know. Someone you might even trust.”

Nikolaos seemed to lose her frown. “You think so?” 

“I know so. How does anyone get that close to a master vampire with a pack of ghouls and still be trusted? I haven’t figured out how they are controlling them. It shouldn’t be possible to control that many at once. As I said, I might be able to manage one - maybe two if I was having a good day. Whatever they are doing, it’s a high skill of magic and likely voodoo or Vaundun. You would know better than me.” 

Nikolaos stepped back, and raised her chin. “I kind of like you. You don’t fear me. But, I will not have you being insolent. I’ll tear your throat out!”

“Oh, I’m scared,” said Harry. “But, my fear receptors are a bit on the muddled side. I too have seen a lot more than meets the eye. I’m not just some fragile human. You are a soldier are you not - er?” He looked at the human servant who was still staring at him. 

“Burchard.” 

“Mr. Burchard. What do you see when you look at me? Aside from being short and young looking. What do you _ see _ with your soldier’s eye?” 

Nikolaos turned and nodded sharply at her servant who swept closer and raked his eyes up and down. He reached for Harry’s hand who allowed it, and turned it over. “You are a warrior. A skilled one. You’ve seen death, you’ve fought it your whole life,” he said in realization. 

“Correct. Just as I see a monster hiding in the eyes of a child.” 

Nikolaos smirked with a child-like satisfaction. “You will hunt the person down killing my vampires, correct?” 

“I will do my best,” said Harry. 

Nikolaos nodded again, and waved her hand to Aubrey and Burchard. “I think we will leave from here. Do keep me informed this time Jean-Claude. No exceptions.” 

“Yes master.” Jean-Claude bowed his head submissively, and Harry resisted the urge to snap at him not to do it. Jean-Claude was no one’s submissive, Harry thought. He didn’t like it. 

Aubrey gave Harry one last look of loathing while Burchard had inclined his head with respect before taking their leave, the blond was skirting around on the servants other side. He kept twitching looking from Harry to Jean-Claude as if terrified. 

Nikolaos began to sing and hum as she seemed to ‘dance’ out the back and the tattered room became silent to the point that Harry’s breathing could barely be heard. 

Jean-Claude bowed his head. “I am sorry, mon petit prise…” he murmured. “I was unable to stand beside you.” 

Harry crossed the room, kicking a broken lamp shade to the side, and gently took hold of Jean-Claude’s forearm causing the vampire to grimace slightly. “Your wrist is broken,” he said running his thumbs slowly along Jean-Claude’s palm toward his wrist. 

“It is of no consequence, when I sleep or feed I shall mend,” he assured. 

“You have a few hours until then,” Harry pulled out the wand he’d been hiding within his sleeve, and gently caressed Jean-Claude’s wrist. “_ Episkey _.” Jean-Claude watched as the bone mended itself. Harry was impressed that the pinching and grinding sensation of bone snapping back into place didn’t show on the vampire’s face. “How did I do on bullshit?” 

Jean-Claude blinked. “Excuse me?” 

Harry grinned. “I’m not really toxic,” he whispered quietly, and Jean-Claude’s lips twitched. “But, it was true that a man who stole my blood did die, but not because he stole it. A little flake of truth sprinkled with a lie or two gets the job done. I learned it from Draco.” 

Jean-Claude seemed to take a breath that was almost natural. He looked up to the ceiling as though trying to come to terms with all that had happened, and when his eyes dropped back to Harry they hardened into glass. “I can’t believe you went head to head with her and survived, mon petit prise. Do you have any idea what she could have done to you? I could not have helped, I could not have protected you!” 

Harry was surprised by the frantic layer on top of Jean-Claude’s usual silk tone. His eyes sharp and wide, still beautiful even in this state. How did a man get so lovely? “I never asked you to,” he reminded softly. 

Jean-Claude locked his jaw and shook his head. “It is my duty! I have to!” 

“No, Jean. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

“But, I do!” insisted Jean-Claude pulling his wrist away. “I drew your friend away because I felt it was best.” 

“You didn’t have to do that. Draco could have come in here and knocked them all down,” said Harry. 

“I do not take chances! I cannot take chances!” said Jean-Claude, and Harry had never heard him sound so panicked. “Not with you I will not! _ Je ne te perdrai pas! _” It was kind of adorable to see Jean-Claude start an English rant only to dive into French. Harry had no idea what he said, but he thought it might have been something about losing. He continued on in that vain reminding him of Fleur whenever Molly Weasley got on her nerves.

“I’m not a fragile doll,” he said calmly over what had to be expletives that he couldn’t translate unless he used a spell. But at least the French was sexy. 

“_ Non _ , you are _ mien _ !” Jean-Claude exclaimed passionately. “ _ Mien! _ I will not have it. She cannot have you! I won’t let her. She can take what she will of me, but not you!” 

Harry’s skin began to buzz and his face began to burn as Jean-Claude’s eyes narrowed on him, and for all of a moment he saw the vampire beneath the man. A wild aura flickered around him, and was it pink? His hair seemed to flare more dramatically around his head, his eyes growing darker around the lids as he drew on some unknown strength of his kind, and in that moment Harry saw the power held tightly by Jean-Claude’s perfect control unravel in thick waves. He was far and away older than four hundred. He had low-balled this master.

He was strong. 

“Do you not understand, _ mon belle _? Nikolaos is not a child to be trifled with. She is dangerous. She is over a millenia old! She has powers that the likes of even I have never seen before.” 

All Harry could do was shake his head as he tried to lessen the burn, and for a distraction he swept his wand arm around causing everything in the room to repair itself. Jean-Claude stopped his ranting to watch, his eyes flickering with awe. “You’re being silly Jean-Claude.” 

“I am not. I am being reasonable, I do believe.” Jean-Claude took in a deep breath and seemed to calm down as he watched each piece of broken furniture mend itself back to perfection. Even the shattered lamp that had been made of crystal and worth a small fortune had not a seam or crack once Harry had finished. 

“I know you think I need protecting from your world, but I’ve been in darker worlds before.” 

“Non! I never should have dragged you in.” 

“I’m glad you did. You’re my friend, Jean. Even if you hadn’t, and I caught wind of what was going on, I would have done something. I’m not a man who sits on his hands.” 

“...” Jean-Claude seemed to come down from his buzzing high, and the pulse in the air was pulled back in strong as he continued to watch each piece of his furniture mend itself. 

There were times when Harry really wished he was good at legilimency if only to pry open this man’s head. What could he be thinking? Harry wasn’t worth protecting! He wasn’t worth being claimed. He was… he was a nobody to Jean-Claude, so what was it? He didn’t think he had the Gryffindor courage to ask. 

“Your magic is… magnificent. I have never seen such a thing.” 

“I told you. I am not a witch.” 

“I promise never to call you a witch again,” said Jean-Claude with a bow. He moved his wrist around. “It feels marvelous. You are using a focus?” 

“Sometimes I don’t need it, but when I heard Nikolaos I tucked it in my sleeve,” said Harry bending down to place his wand back in his boot. “You never know when you need firepower.” 

“Is what you said true when you burned her?” he asked, his eyes having gone gentle once more. 

Harry stood up straight and nodded. “Yeah, my parents were murdered. My mother shielded me, and when she did it cast an ancient magic that gave me a lingering protection. He couldn’t touch me without being burned, well that was until he used my blood in a ritual, but that hardly matters now. He’s dead. But, my magic does react whenever I am bodily threatened or touched when I don’t want to be.” 

Jean-Claude smiled slowly, re-igniting his features as Harry reached up and pushed a piece of his soft silk hair away from one of his eyes. Jean-Claude took a breath, never taking his gaze from Harry. “You’re like a human cross with the way you glow so stunning.” 

Harry laughed. “Hardly! If so I think I might have burned you long before now. If I believed in such a thing.” 

“What do you believe, mon belle?” Harry was surprised by the change in his name, but thought it sounded nicer. Although, he wasn’t sure what it meant exactly. He’d have to ask Draco or not, the man would tease the life out of him if he did. 

“I believe in life and I believe in death. I believe in magic and the world, Jean. I believe in the natural order, and that all beings no matter the species should be treated fairly and given a chance and judged on the individual person rather than a collective group.” Harry hitched a breath when Jean-Claude took a fluid step forward, his hair flooded forward as long slim perfect fingers caressed Harry’s cheeks causing them to flare. 

“Precious, mon _ belle _. You are - unbelievably one of a kind.” 

Harry really wanted to roll his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I’m really not, Jean, but I thank you for making a boy feel nice.” 

Jean-Claude shook his head. “You have no idea the effect you possess do you?” 

Harry closed one eye, trying to temper his blood pressure, Jean-Claude’s touch was truly having an affect on him, and he didn’t know how to control it. His heart was about to explode. “I don’t possess anything special except a bit of magic and a ridiculously strong will to survive the impossible. Nikolaos is not the first monster I have met, and no I don’t say that because she is a vampire. Trust me, my own personal monster was all human - no matter how reptilian he looked.” 

Jean-Claude shook his head. “She will drag you in, and take you away from me, mon belle.” 

“She can’t, Jean. No one can.” Jean-Claude tilted his head, and noticed the scar that lingered beneath the wild fringe of his hair. 

“What happened here? I have always noticed… but… it is intriguing.” Harry’s lashes fluttered when thumbs began to glide across the scar. Jean-Claude was so close that Harry’s nose could touch his chin. 

“My mother’s sacrificed stopped a deadly spell from hitting me,” Harry managed to get out. “It bounced backwards hitting him.” 

“It killed him?” 

“Not entirely. He was turned into a spirit for years. He had - a way of staying tied to the earth even without a body. He returned when I was fourteen. He was the one who stole my blood.” 

“I see, I do wish to hear more about this, mon belle, but for now, I do believe your friend may very well be done with Phillip.” He smiled as he drew back causing Harry to choke. 

“Y-you can hear them?” Harry spluttered burning even hotter. 

“Oui! It sounds as though he had much fun,” said Jean-Claude with a teasing smile as he folded his arms across his lovely chest. 

Harry groaned. “I don’t want to know.”

“Shall I retrieve them so that you do not walk in on something that you wish not to observe?” 

Harry waved his hand. “Yeah, I’m going to go apologize to Buzz.” 

“What did you do to my bouncer?” asked Jean-Claude. 

“I froze him.” Jean-Claude stared wildly at him. “Only for a few seconds!” he whined as another coy smile made its way across Jean-Claude’s face. “I had to get passed him, and I am not the kind of boy who can get physical with a six foot something man and live to tell about it without a little backup!” 

“I assure you he would not have hurt a hair on your pretty head, _ mon belle _. He might have detained you, but otherwise, non. He has my orders.” 

“Still, I had to get passed. I was not allowing you to take a fall when I had a clear cut answer! You came to me for answers. You need to have more faith in me, Jean!” 

Smiling softly, Jean-Claude bowed. “Merci, Harry, _ Je suis désolé. _” He turned on his heeled boot, and glided out leaving Harry once again trying to translate a language he had very limited knowledge of.

And he didn’t mean the French. 


	5. Chapter 4

Harry hated to use the term high as a kite, but that was a perfect description of the man that he practically carried into the house at five o’ clock in the morning. Draco had his own room, but Harry was much too tired to curve around the stairs and so he tossed the giggling blond onto his large bed. 

“Sex rocks!” Draco crowed out. “You have to try it!” 

“...” Harry shook his head. 

“I’ve never been with a guy, but man I’ve been missing out. What the bloody hell?!” 

Harry said nothing as he went to work on Draco’s dragon hide boots. He couldn’t be arsed changing him so Harry stripped down to only boxers and crawled in beside him.

“Aren’t you sore?” 

“Hell yeah! I’m very sore, but he knew what he was doing with his cock. He asked me to bite him though, that was kind of weird. I had to remind him I wasn’t a vampire, so what did you do? You have fun with  _ your _ vampire. He was really laying it on thick!” 

Harry chuckled softly as he stared up at the shadows forming on the ceiling. “Nothing as bold as you, Draco, and besides Jean isn’t all that serious. You should know that by now.” He wasn’t about to tell his friend about Nikolaos and the confrontation he’d had with her. No need to spoil Draco’s night. 

Draco snorted. “Then you really need a new prescription because that guy was all over you.” 

“He’s just a flirt.” 

“You like him.” 

“Sure, what is not to like? He’s a great friend-’ 

“Nice arse,” Draco quipped. 

“Y-yes, that too,” he acknowledged. “I like being around him, and yes, I do like him. A lot, but - I know what will happen once I give in, and he gets what he wants. He will move on, things will get awkward, and I still have to communicate with him considering we have shared interests in the Riverfront.” 

“I don’t think that would happen. I think you think too much. Haha, I said think twice!” 

“ _ Four _ ,” Harry stifled a yawn, and tugged his pillow further down. 

“I  _ think, think, think _ you need to stop thinking and let yourself have fun, Harry! You’re free now. No one is after you, there is no war, and no one is planning to do anything stupid. So, stop thinking. Hehe!” Draco sniggered as he rolled over. “You need to be happy.” 

“I’m pretty happy even if your breath stinks.” 

“Lies!” Draco gasped. “My breath always smells good.” 

“Did you give him a blowjob or something?” 

“Erm… maybe.” It wasn’t often that Draco sounded sheepish, but a drunk Draco was a Draco who let loose. 

“Yeah, I can smell it.” Harry wrinkled his nose. 

“You ever have or give a blowjob? It was delicious. That thick rod sliding in and out-” 

“Nope.” Harry cut Draco off before he went into further detail. He didn’t need to know about Draco blowing anyone.

It was quiet. “You ever have sex?” 

“No.” 

“Huh? Seriously?” 

“Yup.” 

“B-but, you’re gay right? Everyone knew?” 

“Eventually, no one was all that happy about it. I was supposed to marry Ginny after all and settle down with three kids or some such,” said Harry wrinkling his nose. 

Draco made a gagging noise. “Gah, you can do so much better than that! Even if you were straight!” 

“She’s not that bad.” 

“Ulgh.” 

“Oh, and Pansy was better?” 

“Hardly,” Draco grumbled. “I didn’t have a choice with Pansy. Our parents were making all kinds of plans together, but that all broke apart, and thank Merlin for that! Did no one interest you at all?” 

“I don’t know. I never got a chance to think about it. I’m sure they would have if I’d had the chance. But really, I didn’t know many people. I mean, they knew my name and who I was, but I didn’t know them.” 

“Right, you have to know them to like them, even attraction?” 

“Kind of. I mean, I recognize good looks, but to really be attracted to someone I have to know them enough.” 

“Maybe that’s why Jean-Claude liked you.” 

“Hm?” 

“It’s obvious that everyone is attracted to him. He even had an effect on me!” 

“I know,” Harry laughed. 

“But, I bet when you first met him you weren’t even phased by his looks.” 

Harry tried to think back to the moment he first walked into JC Corporation. It had been nightfall, and he’d already set up a meeting to discuss the activity with the day secretary. A few of the properties under discussion had been inhabited by JC Corporation but belonged to the Black family, those deeds had been tucked away. 

He had recognized how beautiful Jean-Claude was, but that was like recognizing that Veela were beautiful or Fleur Delacour. Harry hadn’t even blinked. Jean-Claude was of course ready with his seductive smile, but Harry had thrown him off by assuring him that he wasn’t there to kick anyone out of the Riverfront properties, and was actually hoping that Jean-Claude and he could work together to reinvent the District into something impressive. He didn’t care about the money or the deeds, and had even suggested handing over a stipend to try and fix some of the rougher more damaged buildings. 

Jean-Claude had been taken aback by his insistence that he wasn’t really a business man and that he’d only inherited the property from his godfather. He was there in St. Louis to hopefully stay, and didn’t really need the extra income that the businesses would provide. Only imagining the Malfoy’s reactions stopped Harry from offering the space rent free. 

It wasn’t until then that Jean-Claude insisted that no one made an honest living by taking advantage of the truly kind, and instead suggested that they meet monthly to look over a portfolio of plans and make a solid dual budget. Harry would handle some of the more irritating humans who had severe prejudice issues, and Jean-Claude would see to the more business oriented side. 

It formed a perfect working relationship, and they quickly fell into a camaraderie of friendship that was tossed with Jean-Claude’s flirting. Harry couldn’t quite remember when the flirting started because admittedly he’d been a bit dense, and when Jean-Claude had tried to roll him for the first time Harry hadn’t even noticed. 

It’d actually annoyed the vampire so much so that they ended up getting nothing done, and Jean-Claude spent over four hours staring Harry in the eyes in an effort to mesmerize him. 

Still didn’t work, and Harry had been amused and his attraction had grown by the put-out expression that turned into a full blown pout. He supposed that seeing behind a perfect facade was what Harry preferred most of all. To see a man for who he really was. 

It worked the same with Voldemort, who wasn’t exactly on anyone’s glamour list except maybe Bellatrix. Harry had been revolted like everyone else until he met the man behind the insanity. A man that Voldemort could have become. In that moment, hearing the truth and soul in a broken man had changed Harry’s view. Voldemort stopped being revolting and terrifying and became a man that Harry was attracted to. 

He was thrown out of his musings when he heard the tell-tale snore from Draco. He snickered in the dark. Ah man, if only he had something to record him with. He sounded like Hagrid with too much Mead. 

He shook his head thoughtfully and turned over. Yeah, so what if he liked Jean-Claude? Everyone liked him, and there was nothing in this world that would set him apart from everyone else. Nothing in Harry’s life was that easy. He wasn’t the hero in a novel who got the girl in the end, or in this case the guy. 

He was fine with that. 

_ Right?  _

oOo

Harry couldn’t stop laughing when Draco awoke later that day with not only a sore arse, but a hangover that had him whining and pouting as he wrapped the silver sheet around his body. Harry wasn’t so cruel that he would leave Draco in that position, and had promptly handed him a hangover cure. 

Not even an hour later the boy threw off the cover, crying out that he had to finish his thesis and that damn Muggle library better not be closed because it was a Sunday. He rushed out remembering to grab his folder and bag from the den. 

Harry could only snicker as he cleaned breakfast up, and slid a plate across the table when Draco rushed back in. “I’m hung- oh, Harry you’re the best!” He snatched the plate full of crisp bacon and toast. It wasn’t the healthiest, but even Harry was feeling a bit laggy after last night.

Draco left the house cradling his plate like a prized possession, and Harry wondered if it would survive the apparation. Let alone make it back to their kitchen. 

As Harry flittered around doing the dishes the Muggle way he was aware of a presence filling the spaces of the manor. A soft sliding on the floor nearby. Harry flicked his wrist, not bothering to turn at the grunt as a silver coated cage came down from the ceiling where it had been hidden under invisibility charms. 

Harry turned with the scrubber in hand to smile at the man looking at his magic contraption with clear respect in his baby blue eyes that was anything but from a baby. 

“Good morning, Edward. You’ve lost your touch.” 

“Or you’ve gained something. Your door was wide-open you know,” said Edward turning those cold blues onto Harry. He looked amused, but Harry wasn’t sure if he could do true amusement. 

Edward was average height, average size but also had a rather nice amount of muscle that could be seen from the crew neck shirt he wore tight around his skin. He had a leather shoulder holster with a gleaming gun handle in obvious view. He probably had more that weren’t in view, and a hand grenade. Checking this man’s pockets would not be a good idea. 

Edward was something of an anomaly, Harry thought. He reminded him of a cross between Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy if he were being honest. 

“You can blame my housemate. Not only did the poor boy get buggered for the first time last night, but he has a thesis due tomorrow.” 

Edward snorted without laughing. “Are you going to release me?” 

“Mmm, I don’t know. I think you’re the most dangerous thing I’ve seen all year,” said Harry tossing the brush and wiping his hands down. 

“Hm, I’m not sure whether to agree or disagree since I am aware of your nightly activities.” 

Harry wasn’t surprised by the fact that Edward had information he shouldn’t. He could imagine who it was he tortured. They’d be having words if it was Nathaniel, but Harry doubted it. He wouldn’t see Nathaniel as much of a challenge. It wouldn’t interest him to kill something so soft. Oh, he wouldn’t hesitate if he had to, but there were plenty of other ways to get information. Sources were an important tool to any assassin, but in a pinch Harry was sure a flamethrower or rocket launcher would suffice. 

This man was built on guns and all the firepower the world had to offer, and he was once upon a time an acquaintance to Remus Lupin. Edward’s name had been in a bag of Remus’ stuff that Andromeda had given him as a memento. 

It all began there. 

“I am quite flattered that you seem to think I am above even the Master of the City, which makes me hope that my mark isn’t that boring or is she already dead?” 

Harry snapped his fingers and the cage rose back to the ceiling and dissolved into the black nothingness. “Coffee?” he asked instead as Edward plopped down into a seat and reclined back with a blank face. 

“You know how I like it. Tell me everything.” It wasn’t a request. Edward rarely did requests and as Harry slid the black coffee across the wooden table, he sat opposite. 

“Her name is Nikolaos,” said Harry not bothering to hide it. “But you should not be fooled by her little girl looks. She is accompanied by a bodyguard that makes us look as small as her. He was a soldier, you can tell by the eyes. I’m sure she has more guards surrounding her.” 

“I only need her daytime resting place.” 

“I don’t have that.” 

Edward leaned forward to stare critically at Harry. “You’re not lying.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m not. If I knew where she slept I’d tell you. Hell, I’d join you, Edward,” he assured. “She not only threatened one of the few friends I have, but also made a veiled threat against my best mate, and you know how I feel about those threatening my friends.” 

“So soft, you haven’t learned a thing have you?” he asked with a smirk. 

“All I’ve learned has kept me alive so far, and there is only one of you, and one of me. Let’s keep it that way.” 

Edward’s smirk turned into a slow vicious smile. “Perhaps you are not wrong. Why is she alive? You could have flamed her ass and be done with it.” 

“If I had wouldn’t you be disappointed?” Harry teased. 

Edward shrugged. “Maybe. So, why didn’t you?” 

“I have no idea what kind of power she has. I only had me in there to assess the situation, and I couldn’t be sure that she didn’t have a hold on anyone I cared about long enough to kill her.” 

“Excuses,” Edward spat. 

“Yes, it’s an excuse for, _ I didn’t think about it at the time, _ ” Harry admitted reaching over to take a sip of the black substance. “Bleh, you need sugar.” 

“I’m not much into sweet things, Little Raven,” Edward commented plucking it out of Harry’s loose grip with two fingers. “You think too human you know. It’s going to get you killed,” he said with a pinky finger pointed as he drew the coffee to his lips. 

“It has before,” Harry quipped. “But one of us needs to think like a human.” 

“I’m not sure I would agree with that sentiment, but I suppose since you are alive you used that mouth of yours to get out of it?” 

Harry laughed. “Diplomacy can get you far.” 

“Not as far as a good torch.” 

“Hungry?” 

“Starving. I smell bacon.” 

Harry was already up, and moving around the kitchen, pulling out fresh ingredients. He could feel Edward’s eyes on him. Sometimes Harry thought he was a legilimens with the way he seemed to read a person from the inside out, but he was sure that Edward had no magic in him. “Do you know about the vampire murders?” 

“I’ve heard. Four of them, hm?” 

“Ten,” Harry corrected. “Did you do it?” he asked boldly turning to look at him. 

Edward grinned. “Nah, if I had there wouldn’t have been as much to cleanup. I saw the reports. It was a mess. I carry my own trash out.” 

“I didn’t think so. You don’t strike me as a ghoul summoning kind of man,” said Harry. “But, I had to ask. You are a crafty bastard after all.” 

Edward laughed harshly. “A point in your favor, Little Raven. How about those eggs you’re so good at?” 

“Yes sir, you want your toast buttered with that?” 

“Slathered. So, you want to work with me?” 

Harry bit his lower lip. Last time he worked with Edward they barely got out alive after he set the entire house on fire with a flamethrower, and yet they did. It had been wild and crazy, and admittedly Harry had gotten a rush. Of course, he gave Edward all the credit. He didn’t need anyone knowing that he too was somewhat of an executioner. Not because he had anything against supernatural obviously, but because there were some things that simply shouldn’t be walking the world with how dangerous they were. 

Edward was always annoyed by his morality. Harry wouldn’t help or get involved in a contract where the being might be innocent, and the hit was only because someone had gotten annoyed or personally insulted. 

If it wasn’t the result of the death or serious injury to an innocent, Harry wanted no part of it, but as much as Edward complained, he often backed down and didn’t bother him anymore about it. Edward was the type of man who would kill all in his path to get to what he wanted, damn the consequences and damn the innocents. 

If Edward had been a wizard he’d be a Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Funny how Harry seemed to collect Slytherin like minds lately. 

Nathaniel seemed like a Hufflepuff. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Just thinking about snakes,” said Harry. “And yes, I’d like to get in on it. But, under the condition that Draco never knows about it. He has no idea what happened last night, and I want to keep it that way. Also, whatever happens and whoever gets involved, Jean-Claude stays safe.”

Edward snorted. “Your demands are borderline atrocious, Little Raven. You could have asked for half the cut. It’s a pretty big hit.” 

“You know I don’t care about money.” 

“Neither do I, but it sure funds my toys.” 

“As if you need more toys.” 

“Unlike you.” 

“I only have one I need, thank you.” 

“There’s going to come a time when you don’t have that one toy. More is always better.” 

“Well, Edward, if I do come across that time, surely it’ll be carnage worthy enough to get you involved and you could save your Little Raven, right? Especially one who makes you a perfect breakfast.” he turned and slid the plate causing it to spin perfectly before it came to a stop between Edward’s palms. 

Edward grinned wolfishly. “Maybe.” He tore off a piece of extra crispy bacon, and before he could ask for a fork Harry handed it to him. “Your cooking would be missed.” 

“So glad you think of important things.” Harry had no doubt that Edward would sacrifice him or leave him to die if he ever became a hindrance, and strangely enough? Harry was okay with that because at least with Edward, Harry knew where he stood. 

He liked it when people came right out with the truth. It was much more appreciated than sugar-coated platitudes that meant as much to them as the dirt on the soles of his shoes. 

“How’s that godson of yours?” He wasn’t sure if Edward really cared, but it seemed he always asked. 

“Great, I saw him during the spring. I’m trying to talk Andy into letting him go to Muggle school.” 

“England doesn’t smile upon magic much, Little Raven, and his hair is a rather obvious trait,” Edward reminded. 

“I know, but he should have someone more to be around than an old lady all day. Andy hardly leaves the house. It actually bothers me that Teddy doesn’t get out enough. Every child needs sunlight to grow or they turn out like me.” 

Edward didn’t react to his words, never did. Harry appreciated it. He swallowed the eggs in one bite, and finished with the toast as he lifted his coffee. “So bring him here. Now, names of those vampires surrounding the Master?” 

“What?” Surely Harry misheard the first part of what Edward said. “Aubrey is the vampire I met, and Burchard is the human servant. He was a soldier, and I think he’s good. He read me like you can, but not as well.” 

Edward’s eyes flickered at him. “He saw you for what you were?” 

“He called me a warrior once he saw passed my age and size. I did have to prompt him though.” 

“Hm… interesting,” said Edward tapping his fingers on the table. 

“I don’t know how much more I can get. Maybe if I get further on these vampire murders, I can get closer. But, I have no clue what I’m looking for Edward. I know it’s a skillful mage of sorts.” 

“Animator?” 

“Maybe, but I don’t know what could control a pack of ghouls.” 

“If you were going to control them what would you do?” asked Edward getting right to the source. 

“I could cast the Imperius Curse on one, I suppose, maybe two,” Harry voiced what he’d been thinking. “But, the spell is so powerful, and when you do cast the spell you have not only your own mind to contend with but their mind as well. So, sparsing out magic to control two minds within yours is like walking on broken glass without the use of magic or hardened soles. I guess there are runes that could allow the control or some sort of object…” he paused for a moment and sat back. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…” he mimicked the very first words Professor Snape ever told him. “It could be a Potion. There is a liquid form of Imperius, but they would have to have the skills of a master - no beyond a master. They would have to be an alchemist of serious talent. But, even if you did, how would you get a ghoul to ingest it? And would it even work on the mind of a ghoul? Maybe we could find one and you can dissect it.” 

“Why not you?” 

Harry made a face and Edward smirked as he lifted his coffee. “Cold...” he glared at the coffee as though it were his mark, and Harry waved his hand lazily over it causing heat to flare as it began to steam. “Better.” 

As Harry thought about it he shook his head. “It would be pointless anyway. I’ll bet the brain doesn’t even function properly, which means mind magic wouldn’t work.” 

“I have some contacts I can look into.” 

“I need to check into the HAV, but they don’t like me, and I know I’ll get nothing.” 

Edward smirked. “Looks like I’m going to work.” 

Harry arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? You have a contact in the HAV?” 

Edward said nothing, and his face even less than nothing if that were possible. “You’ll have to see. One more to go?” He held out his coffee, and Harry took it as he stood. “What are you going to do?” 

“Consult some dusty arse tomes,” said Harry sipping it to check its quality and turning to hand it over to Edward. “See if I can find anything that would allow full control. Surely, Voldemort has all kinds of tricks stowed away in his personal toys.” 

“Better you than me. You better not do anything without me.” 

Harry grinned. “As if I could get away with that.” 

Edward smirked and reached into his pocket. “Here, a parting gift.” It was a silver magnum with six rounds that he was sure was the highest grade possible. “Don’t chuck it. It’s very powerful.” 

“You think I’ll need it?” 

“You met the Master of the City and came out alive, let’s keep you that way for a little longer.” He headed toward the front door. 

“So you can finish the job at a later date?” he jested, but inside he was serious. 

Edward smirked. “I never said that, Little Raven.” He disappeared into the hall, and Harry listened as the soft footsteps died away. 

He rushed over to the foggy window to see Edward’s black pickup truck right behind his car. It was silent as the grave. Of course it would be, Harry had silenced it two years ago for him. He even silenced the door to make it so that when it shut it made no noise. 

Edward had almost been happy that day. 

If he knew what happy meant. Edward was one odd duck that Harry couldn’t read, and he was betting that not even Snape, Dumbledore, or Voldemort could pry anything out of him. He was one Muggle that Harry wouldn’t bet  _ against _ when it came to wizard versus muggle. 

Edward would definitely come out as the victor or take both him and the wizard with him. It was a guarantee that when he finally bit the dust, he would probably take an entire fleet of something or someone with him. 

oOo

It was some odd hours later in Harry’s dusty arse library, and after a round of endless sneezing from the floaty skin particles, that Harry’s eyes had not only turned a lurid red but he was wishing he had joined Edward. 

“He always gets the fun side,” Harry huffed as he closed the book on an image of a feathery looking dream catcher. Harry didn’t like Voodoo. Harry admittedly didn’t read too far before he tossed it on top of a tottering pile. It didn’t help the settling of dust as more pillowed out like a cloud. 

Harry had never been a research clown that was always Hermione’s territory. She reveled in research. Harry was the action man through and through. He wanted to get in and get it done. He supposed that’s why he and Edward got along, and so when was it that he got relegated to all things research?

_ Bugger all! _ Harry thought vacating the room before his nose began to change colors to match his eyes. 

Maybe some fresh air, and a drive around town. 

After a quick cold wash, and a change of clothes Harry grabbed a bag and hauled himself outside and into his car. He had no definitive location. He could stop in at work, but it was Sunday, and only Bert would be seen in the office. 

He could check in with Dolph, but he didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Harry was only called in as an expert after all. He was the last line for the squad when they had no more answers, and to be working on the case in his off hours would raise red flags. 

He thought about Edward’s proposal on taking out Nikolaos, and he fully supported that idea, but what would happen to Jean-Claude? He worried about the man’s safety, and yes, Harry knew that was unrealistic. Jean-Claude was not only a powerful master vampire who was likely older than Harry could guess, but he was also smart and crafty. Likely one of the most intelligent men Harry had ever met. He made connections and saw detail that rivaled Edward. 

Edward would be insulted to know this particular fact, which would amuse Harry if he let the man know his thoughts. 

Of course, with all his thoughts lingering he was barely paying attention to his destination, but it seemed like his instincts were taking him across the river to the District. As Harry pointed out, the Riverfront before dark was a ghost-town. All the vampires were asleep, and while the weres could live their lives in the day it was more prudent for them to live at night with the others. Safety in numbers after all. 

Currently, Jean-Claude and Harry were working on the main square as you cross over the river. It wouldn’t exactly return much in way of investment, but looks were important, and they’d agreed to turn a small stretch of land into a park. Harry suggested a dog park, but Jean-Claude had declined that idea on the grounds of hygiene. 

“I’d rather not soil something so beautiful, and I have doubts about whether some humans know that cleaning up after ones-self is only a respectable thing to do. Listen to me speaking? As though I am not a hypocrite of my own words.” He had then laughed richly, and Harry wondered what punchline he missed when the vampire looked at him intensely. 

But, Harry couldn’t fault him for his logic. At least they both decided equally that a main water feature in the middle would draw attention, and the rest green with looping footpaths for a good stroll. 

Harry stopped on the edge of the curb near some construction and reached for the file in the passenger seat. He could run down the list of names, and meet with partners, but the last time he’d done this, no one was willing to talk. 

To a lot of humans in town, vampires were for looking and swooning over where no one could see them. Merlin forbid they did it freely out in the open out of love for each other. If Harry had any contention with the guys on the squad it was because of this. 

They all thought vampires were simply dead corpses ambling around, but that was far from true. He understood prejudice and stereotypes, and listening to rumors and hearsay, but it still bugged him, and Addison vs Clark was no older than two years old in America. 

The way some people acted toward the supernatural was the exact way the Dursleys acted toward him, and anything remotely interesting. It was codswallop. 

He was so focused on going through the files and names that he would deny later that he let out a yelp when there was a tap on his window. He didn’t jump either when he looked over to see a familiar and yet unfamiliar face standing there with a smirk. 

It took him all of a second as he hit the automatic windows to realize the handsome chiseled face staring back at him was the same man he saw last night. Except he hadn’t exactly been dressed. 

“Phillip, right?” 

“Got it in one. I should be insulted, I heard you not only walked away from my routine, but you also fell asleep.” 

Harry stuttered. “Uhm, no insult to you, but I was tired. That little git you buggered last night woke me way too early and then dressed me like a peacock.” 

Phillip laughed. “That little git as you so aptly named him was a lot of fun. Can I get in?” 

“Sure.” Harry unlocked the doors, and Phillip skipped around. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t,” said Phillip. “I stopped in at your work, the lovely secretary let me know that you likely wouldn’t be in today. I live down the block.” 

“It is Sunday. Only Bert is in the office, and no one wants to see Bert unless they’re being paid,” said Harry rolling the window back up and blasting the cold air. How this non-magical man was able to wear a leather jacket in a sweltering July heat was beyond Harry. It wasn’t like he had any cooling charms. “Good Merlin, aren’t you burning alive?” 

“You want another show? I can give you a private one, you know,” he said wagging his brows causing Harry to laugh. 

“No thank you, Phillip. But, here have some air!” Harry adjusted the vent to aim at him, and in return Phillip was looking at him oddly. “So, what brings you to my office and my car?” 

“It was suggested that you make use of me with your case,” he said nodding to the case file in Harry’s lap. “Jean-Claude was rather persistent that someone watch over you.” 

Harry resisted rolling his eyes. “I’m not really doing anything productive. I tried and I failed. I’m just not a research clown. Is he alright? Nikolaos didn’t return after I left did she?”

Phillip frowned and shook his head. “Not as far as I know. But, then I’m not really in the know. Just a lackey who gets by.” 

“I doubt that. Jean-Claude doesn’t employ lackeys,” said Harry. 

“That’s what he says. It’s no wonder you two seem to mesh well.” 

Harry shook his head. “He’s a good friend, and I’d like to help him out, but I really am flying blind, and I can’t get anyone to talk to me. I tried once, granted I was with the police then…” 

“I know a few of them. I can help you. Can I see it?” 

Harry handed him the file, not caring about discretion or confidentiality. The police force had a habit of oversharing with partners and friends, why can’t Harry? He wasn’t an officer, and if things went as expected, it wouldn’t be the police he would be working for. “Be careful, they’re nasty.” 

Phillip grinned. “Worried about me?” 

“Just worried about your stomach, and gag reflex. Draco would have kittens if you threw up in the car.” 

He laughed. “I did get a slight haughty vibe from him.” 

“Slight? Wow, he must have been drunk!” Harry laughed. 

Phillip tilted his head. “You know more people do sleep with me when they’re not drunk,” he said seriously. 

Harry blinked at Phillip. “What does that have to with Draco?” 

“... What did you mean by Draco had to be drunk?” Phillip reiterated, eyes a bit wide. 

“Uhm, well, Draco isn’t really a sharing person, and he’s grown up in the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Old bloodlines you know? He was made to walk a certain path in a certain way his whole life. Everything here in St. Louis is new to him. I’m glad he was able to get out and have fun you know? It’s not easy living in a world of oppression and high expectations where failure is not an option.” 

Phillip considered Harry’s words. “Oh…” He flushed, and looked away. “Sorry, I thought you meant something else.” 

“What did you think I meant?” asked Harry. 

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not nothing, and normally I would let it go, but if its a mark on my character, I have a right to defend myself. So, spit it out!”

Phillip couldn’t help but laugh. “I really see why Jean-Claude likes you, and Draco is so… interesting.” 

“Hm?”

“You don’t judge me do you?” 

“Why would I do that when I don’t know you?” asked Harry. 

“Why indeed. Everyone judges me. I’m practically a prostitute for any vampire that will have me. Most call me a vampire junkie. Even vampires call me a vampire junkie,” said Phillip. “I’m created for one purpose and one purpose only, and that’s to be owned by a vampire.” 

“...” Harry couldn’t stop the repeated blinks as he took in Phillip’s words. “Erm, well, I don’t even know you so how would I know that about you? For another, I’m not everyone, and it’s obvious that not all vampires see you as a vampire junkie - whatever that means. Jean-Claude respects you.” 

Phillip laughed hollowly. “Hah, I wish I could believe that.” 

“I think you should believe it. He’s always been a bit - protective of me. If he didn’t respect or trust you, I doubt he would send you here to me to be his daytime eyes. He did not want me meeting Nikolaos that was for sure.”

Phillip tapped his knee with his fingers. “A vampire junkie is one who lets a vampire feast on him. They even have whole parties dedicated to such a thing.” 

“If that’s what you want to do, who am I to stop you? Or judge you for that matter?” 

“You don’t think it’s stupid?” 

“Only if you think it’s stupid. But, let me tell you something about my friend Draco,” said Harry. “In the world I used to belong, Draco is considered a Prince. He comes from a long standing bloodline, and the world was his oyster the day he came out of his mother. He was also a virgin when it came to male sex, and if he thought for one moment you weren’t worthy of his attention he wouldn’t have looked twice at you no matter how hot you are or how drunk he was. He’s a snotty little shit with opinions bigger than St. Louis.” 

“Wow, you’re brutal!” Phillip laughed, and it was a real one this time. 

“I’m brutal because he is brutal, and he doesn’t expect more than honesty from me and vice versa. It’s a perfect marriage of friendship and a healthy dose of contempt after seven years being at each other’s throats. We grew up in a world that doesn’t see supernatural as supernatural, and if you like belonging to this community and you’re happy with your choices then what right do I or Draco or anyone have to take away your happiness so long as it hurts no one?”

“You make a point,” said Phillip. He looked at the file. “So, about these witnesses?” 

“I’m thinking Rebecca Miles,” said Harry. 

“Ah, I know her. She was Maurice’s property. Sorry, but it’s true. A lot of masters aren’t as kind as Jean-Claude.” 

“A lot of _ humans _ aren’t as kind as Jean-Claude,” Harry quipped. 

“True, I guess I should stop worrying that you’re going to pull a face on me. We can try there.” 

“First, let’s get something to eat. I’m famished.” He tossed the file into the backseat. “You hungry too?” 

“I can always eat.” 

“Great! Maybe we need to get some restaurants down here besides Dead Dave’s bar? I love a cheeseburger as much as the next person, but I need a little variety.” 

Phillip laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure the weres would enjoy that. There’s always Lunatic Cafe, but I don’t recommend it. You think I’m a freak, I’m nothing on Raina and her pack.”

“I don’t like that word.” Harry frowned. “You’re not a freak.” 

“I am, and I embrace it,” said Phillip in what he must have thought was a proud voice, but Harry knew better. 

“Don’t use that word around me, please,” he requested. “Use anything but that word.” 

“Freak bothers you?” 

Harry looked at him. “It’s a pathetic wordy weapon that I don’t much appreciate it. I heard that word continuously the first seventeen years of my life, I don’t want to hear it again now that I can control my life.” 

Phillip looked thoughtful. “Gotcha! I won’t say the F-word,” he laughed. “Can I say the other F word?” 

“Have at it.” 

oOo

Rebecca Miles was a nervous little woman with a curtain of dark hair. She looked like a drowned cat with the way her eyes grew wide and bulged with not only sadness but fear, and Harry’s heart went out to her as she wrung her hands while sitting across from them. She kept looking nervously at the coffin in the living room, and then back at Harry suspiciously through the whole conversation. 

“Why do you want to know?” asked Rebecca with a frown. 

“I want to find out who’s killing the vampires.” 

“Is that really what you’re after? Or are you just going to add more bodies?” 

“Rebecca,” Phillip admonished, but Rebecca shook her head wildly. 

“No, I won’t pretend that I don’t know what they call us and what they think of us.” 

“They?” Harry asked. 

“People like you!” 

Harry arched an eyebrow. “Madam, I don’t even know who you are so how can I think anything except the fact that I think you might need a hug or two?” 

Phillip couldn’t help but chuckle. “Becky, I assure you Harry isn’t like that. He’s one of Jean-Claude’s,” he said placing a hand on her knee. 

“You’re his servant?” asked Rebecca wide-eyed. 

Harry shook his head. “No madam. Just a good friend. I don’t want to see anyone targeted, vampire or human. I may work for the police at times, but I am not the police itself. I’m an Animator, and I know a lot, and if it helps me catch the person responsible I’ll work with whoever I can.” 

“See?” said Phillip. “He’s different, Becky. You can trust him.” 

“Now, Phillip mentioned parties that most of the victims attended, can you explain some more about that?” 

“You don’t know what a Freak Party is?” asked Rebecca. 

Harry frowned severely what was with the freak words? Harry felt as if he’d entered a Twilight Zone designed entirely by the Dursleys. Phillip winced. “He doesn’t like that word, Becky.” 

“What? It’s true. You might as well embrace it. Everyone uses it.” 

“Not me,” said Harry shaking his head. “I don’t see what going to a party and providing nourishment in exchange for some fun or to sate a need qualifies a person as a freak. But, I suppose that’s not the point. Can you tell me more about these parties?” 

He was slightly aware of Phillip really regarding him, and Rebecca’s eyes shined with a brightness that he hadn’t seen since he met her at the door when she greeted Philip. She and Phillip explained to Harry about these parties, and how anyone with an interest in vampires could get anything they want so long as they returned the favor. Some were exclusive, some were open doors. It all depended on who was throwing the party, and plus ones were always recommended to be brought by those trustworthy enough. 

It sounded like a good place someone could hunt. 

Some of them could get wild and crazy as most things tended to be when large groups with an addiction tended to be. She couldn’t seem to answer him properly. 

“Admittedly there are some nights when everything blurs together,” said Phillip. 

By now, Rebecca was rocking back and forth holding herself together. “Please... Please don’t let them kill Jack.” She looked over at the coffin. 

Harry followed her gaze. “I can’t honestly promise because I still haven’t a clue what could be doing what it is doing. I will try my best. Phillip? Why don’t you get her to bed. She looks exhausted. I think we’ve gotten more than enough. You need anything?” 

Rebecca sniffed and shook her head. “No, but - thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For being decent and for not treating us like trash, and for… for being honest.” 

“I try to do my best with what truth I have, and you shouldn’t have to thank me for being decent when that should be an inherent quality in everyone. But, sadly we all know that’s a fantasy world. Do you have tea? I find tea helps calm the nerves.” 

“Some Chamomile, Maurice liked the smell,” she said as Phillip helped her to stand. 

“It’s also a natural pain reliever and muscle relaxant,” said Harry. “Sweet or no?” 

“No.” 

Harry headed into the small kitchenette, and he half listened as Phillip murmured softly to Rebecca while helping her to her room. He shook his head, there were times when Harry thought that Edward’s logic was sound and true about how people were nothing more than slaves and tools to be used and discarded at the whims of those stronger. 

But, if Harry believed that he would have been long dead, and he tried to think of himself as an optimist despite all the hell he’d gone through. 

He felt Phillip’s movements, and heard the scrape of his boots. “How is she?” he asked stirring the cup with a small spoon. 

“Better. You really know how to talk to people,” said Phillip solemnly. 

Harry turned to look at him. “You okay?” 

“That could be me,” he whispered staring at his hands. 

Harry stepped forward, and handed Phillip the cup of tea. “That could be anyone, Phillip. Not just you. Good people are put in terrible situations all the time. Sometimes it makes us stronger and sometimes it breaks us. But only you have the power to choose which.” He poured another cup for Rebecca. “Can you set this by her bedside?” 

“Yeah…” Phillip smiled. “You really are a different sort of person, Harry.” He turned and ambled out gracefully leaving Harry to shake his head. 

How could the lack of decency be afforded to an entire group just trying to live their lives in the best way they could? It sort of reminded him of the way house-elves were treated. But, if Harry could change the die-hard purist perceptions like the Malfoy family than he could work on changing the others. 

Just one person at a time until he could restore some thread of decency, and maybe if Nikolaos fell off her throne of power someone like Jean-Claude who actually cared for his people and cared for life could take the reins and teach the rest of his kind that vampire didn’t mean monster and human didn’t always mean human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all Veterans and current soldiers. It's not an easy task that has been asked of you. Happy Veterans Day.


	6. Chapter Five

#  Chapter Five

“You’re quiet,” said Phillip as they drove out of Dogtown, and back toward town. “Are you freak-” Harry looked at him sharply. “Disgusted now?” 

“I’m sad, Phillip,” said Harry turning back to the road. “I’m sad for Rebecca who is not happy in the life she chose, but can’t get herself out of, and I’m sad that she lost someone she cared about.” 

“I don’t know what you think you believe, but Maurice was an ass. He treated everyone like shit because he was strong enough to.” 

“Do you get treated that way?” 

“Sometimes, but I haven’t gone to one of those parties in a long time. I’m trying to stop. It’s like a drug, you know? You belong for a while. You are the most important person when…” he trailed off, and turned to stare at the window. He shook his head. “You should drop me at the club.” 

“Tell me more, Phillip, please?” 

Phillip made a noise. “Why is it I barely know you and you make me feel guilty?” 

Harry blinked as they stopped at a redlight, and he turned to look at the man fully. “Why would I do that? How could I do that? I’m not trying to make you feel guilty about anything. I want to find the ones responsible so we have no more victims. It breaks my heart to see so many people so surprised just because I’m a decent human being.” 

Phillip leaned his head back and stared at Harry. His face was entirely devoid of emotion, but his eyes seemed to glitter and swim. 

“I’m no one special Phillip. I’m just a wizard with a funny case of luck, and a healthy dose of contempt for people who hurt others.” 

Phillip shook his head. “I don’t get how you don’t see yourself for what you are! You turned Rebecca’s world around with just a few sentences. You made her smile for the first time in what I will guess is years. You have this way about you to where I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“How would you do that?” Harry flinched when a loud sound of honking behind caught their attention, and one of those oversized Buick Lesabre’s gleamed silver in the rear-view mirror. “ _ Oh, bugger off _ , you have nowhere you need to be, old man!” he huffed quickly looking at the road and speeding off causing Phillip to chuckle, and the serious tension was suddenly broken. “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I don’t see why my thoughts would even be important enough for you to feel you’ve disappointed me.” 

“You really are clueless. It’s kind of cute.” 

Harry huffed, and Phillip laughed some more. “Can you get me in?” 

Phillip’s laugh died and he frowned. “What?” 

“To one of these parties? Can you get me in?” 

“Why?” 

“You know why, Phillip. It might be our only link, and I can’t let it go. If it’s too dangerous for you, I’ll figure something out. But I’d like for you to get me in.” 

Phillip licked his lips, and stared at his hands. “God, what kind of person am I to expose someone like you to that world?” 

Harry let out another exasperated sigh. “For goodness sakes, Phillip, I’m not a God or anything! I don’t even believe in the bugger, and I assure you I can handle myself. I may be short and scrawny, but you’ve never seen me in action.” 

Phillip couldn’t help but smile leeringly at him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in action, Harry. Draco was a lot of fun, but I bet you would be so full of passion!” 

Harry’s face burned, and he whacked Phillip on the shoulder. “Keep your trousers on and that belt buckled mister!” He squeaked when Phillip slid closer to him, and he could feel the man’s breaths on his neck. 

“You do have very attractive reactions, I see why Jean-Claude has made you his…” said Phillip running a nose along Harry’s jaw. 

“I… do not belong to Jean,” said Harry with deep breaths, gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

Phillip chuckled. “That, Harry is where you are wrong. You really are adorable, aren’t you?” 

“... What like one of those wrinkled smash faced puppies that’s so ugly it’s cute?” 

Phillip drew back and shook his head. “Hopefully, Jean-Claude will teach you a lesson.” 

Harry spluttered, his face burning, but not in the way that Jean-Claude got it burning. “Excuse me?” 

Phillip smirked. “Nothing, nothing. Can I get your number? I need to look into a few friends. See where the next is being hosted. It changes to keep down on the HAV groups.” Harry wanted to push, but decided that he was not Gryffindor enough, and pointed to the console below the dash. Phillip fished inside pausing when he saw a gun. “You own a gun?” 

“Yeah, well, I never use it,” said Harry. “But, it’s there because the squad didn’t want me to have one, and so I got one if only on principle.” 

Phillip arched an eyebrow. “I see.” He took out pen and a scrap piece of paper. “Number?” 

Harry rattled off his home number as he thought about how big of a pain in the arse it had been to rewire the entire house so that basic electricity and magic would work without exploding all over the place. 

Harry wasn’t about to talk about the fires he’d started in some of the rooms, good thing the library had been enchanted and protected, the upstairs attic still smelled smokey at times. 

“I have one question for you,” said Phillip as Harry pulled in front of Guilty Pleasures. Everything was asleep, no bright flashing lights, no excited mingling crowd. 

“What’s that?” 

“How good are you at acting?” 

Harry considered the question. “I guess I’m decent, why? Am I supposed to act a certain way?” 

“You don’t look like a victim,” said Phillip. “You need to dress the part. Something that shows some skin.” Harry stared at him wildly, and the man laughed. “Sorry, but it would be best if they could catch a glimpse of you beneath. A glow always teases them a bit, you know? Gets them excited.” 

“Right…” Harry was sure that he didn’t own any such clothing, and Merlin help him if he mentioned this to Draco. 

No. Just no. Draco would not be involved in this. 

“I’m not wearing leather.” 

“Why not?” 

Harry looked at him. “I’ve five, five,  _ five _ and yes I included that point five on the feet and inch scale thank you very much. I need all the point five I can get! I would look like a silly little kid if I tried to stuff myself in anything remotely leather that’s not a jacket that’s loose enough or a belt.” 

Phillip laughed. “Not if you wore the right kind of leather. Jean-Claude could give you pointers.” 

“Jean can get on his merry way thank you very much, I am not wearing leather.” 

“It doesn’t have to be. Just something that stands out. Something unique, but not over the top.” 

“...” Harry rolled his eyes. “You are talking to a walking disaster when it comes to fashion. Draco dresses me,” he admitted shamelessly. He sighed. “I’ll figure something out. Is it okay to drop you here?” 

“Yep. I have a key,” said Phillip holding out the keyring that clanked. “Thank you for your afternoon, Harry!” 

“You too, Phillip.” And Harry meant it. 

As Phillip got out, he crouched briefly. “Harry-?” 

“Yeah?” Harry had been adjusting the seat-belt he hated wearing, but if he didn’t the car would sound and make this irritating alarm until he buckled in, and no amount of charming would see it quiet without the engine itself dying. 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

Phillip smiled. “You didn’t treat me like a victim or let me feel like one.” 

Harry shook his head. “You’re only a victim if you let them make you one, Phillip. Trust me, I’ve been close to where you are before, maybe not in terms of vampires, but in other ways. I know what it’s like to rely on something you know is not healthy if only to keep your own sanity.”

Phillip nodded. “And that’s why I’m thanking you.” He closed the passenger door, and jogged to the front where the door shuddered open and a pale figure disappeared as Phillip entered the building, and shut it sharply. 

“Looks like I’m going shopping… but for what?” He thought about stopping at the nearby mall to check into something, but he knew that it would be pointless. He was not into fashion. He had no idea what looked good. He was a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, and who cares about his hair? It would lay where it lay and no amount of spray or gel would see it tamed. 

“Maybe I could go arse-naked? Surely that will get attention,” Harry murmured to no one but the steering wheel. “Ah, bugger all, perhaps I can get away with what I wore last night? Draco would kill me if I rip the sleeves… shit, I’m talking to myself, and answering myself… that’s not good.” He looked over at the empty passenger seat and tried to envision someone sitting there. 

But. 

He wasn’t that crazy yet. 

He got home not long after night fall, and blinked when he saw something sitting idly on his porch. 

… “Did Draco forget we have no elves?” he wondered parking in the already flattened and thin grass as he unbuckled his seat-belt before shutting off the engine. 

His car gave a warning squall, and Harry glared. “Shut it!” It did once he turned it off, and stepped out of the car toward the brilliant white box that sat rectangular on top of the step. A big glossy emerald green bow rested on top. 

He made to pull out his wand to check its contents for traps when he noticed perfect loopy scrawl. It was from Jean-Claude. He would recognize the writing anywhere. He reached down, and lifted it. It was well packaged and heftier than he expected. He reached beneath the gauzy bow to pull out a thin small card. 

_ To Mon Belle,  _

_ I heard you were in need, please accept this token of my affection, and wear it when you need to, and may I request that you do not allow anyone to bite you? It would sadden me to know that I have slipped from your top slot of favorite vampire. _

_ Yours,  _

_ JC _

“Tattle-tale,” Harry grumbled thinking about Phillip. How could Jean-Claude already know? Did they already find out the time? He doubted it would be tonight, and he was almost scared to look in the box. Hopefully, Phillip let the man in on how ridiculous leather would look on him. 

A light was on in the entrance hall, and he poked his head into the kitchen to see the most bizarre sight. Perfect Pureblood Draco Malfoy was sitting hunched over a clunky looking gray electronic box. His eyes were round and very red, his hair was askew and he kept cursing with every tap. Beside him was a litter of Butterbeer bottles (Harry sighed at the idea of having to order overseas again, the supply always ran low!) and a stack of Muggle candy wrappers with not a single candy bar left in sight. 

Harry wondered about his teeth sometimes. 

Ah, magic. 

“Nah! No!” Draco squalled. “What did I do?” 

“What did you do?” 

“I deleted it! I deleted it all! No, no, no!” 

Harry came around the long table to look at what Draco was doing. He had a word processor pulled up, and it was empty. Harry reached over and hit the usual Ctrl-Z, and all of it popped back up. 

Draco cheered and grabbed him around the middle. “Thank you! I almost blasted this thing through the wall!” 

“I thought you were going to the library?” 

“I did, but they closed at five,” Draco huffed. “So, I went the most convenient route and bought myself one of these things. What have you been doing?”

Harry was about to tell him that he had an evening with his one-time lover, but then snapped his jaws shut as he realized that it probably wasn’t wise to tell Draco this, at least not yet. He didn’t want his friend involved. 

“Checking out the construction on the Riverfront. You know that park Jean and I are having built?” Draco nodded. “I was also combing through tomes on what could possibly control ghouls, but you know me and research. I was going mad from the dust and tiny letters. So I had to get out.” 

“-And that?” Draco poked at the white package in one hand. 

Harry sighed. “Jean. Did you hear anyone come by?” 

“Erm, I might have heard something, but I don’t know. I was trying to set this thing up. Do you know how much information this contraption wanted from me? I mean, what was it going to do with that information? What can it do?!” His voice began to climb, and Harry snickered.

“I guess its to verify who you are.” 

“But, I know who I am, and who the bloody hell is Norton and why do I want to buy him?” 

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have it set up for you later, okay?” He wasn’t exactly great on a computer, but he knew what he was doing sometimes, when it didn’t fizzle out or blow up because of a spark of magic in frustration. 

Draco nodded. “Good! By the way, I gave it your name.” 

If Draco had been anyone else, Harry would have been annoyed, but instead he laughed and patted the man-child on the shoulder. “That’s fine.” 

“So, what did Jean-Claude send you?” 

“No idea, I’m kind of afraid to look at it. I think I’ll wait. By the way, you should probably save that file, and we might need a printer.” 

Draco stared at him owlishly. “I know what a printer is and I know how to save.” 

“Do you?” 

“But, I don’t know how to hook it up.” 

“Me either.” Maybe, he could ask Edward? If Edward was in a good enough mood. Maybe a huge American breakfast consisting of biscuits and gravy? Edward always seemed willing to do something for Harry when he was in a good enough mood. “Get the printer, and I’ll have it hooked up in the drawing room later.” 

“Which one?” 

“Whichever you can tolerate for long because one angry spark will see that laptop going up in smoke. Believe me, Bert has had to pay out for at least six computers since I’ve been with the firm.” 

Draco let go of the laptop and stared at it dubiously. “It’ll blow if it gets sparked with my magic?” 

“Or die completely. Just don’t let off accidental magic and you’ll be fine. I’m going for a shower, I think I’ll have an early night.” He was exhausted, and he didn’t want to linger too long in case questions were asked, ones in which Harry would have to lie. 

Harry hated lying to Draco. He tried so hard to use the truths he had so he could avoid it. 

oOo

He’d been fast asleep cozying up to one of the many goosefeather pillows that lined his bed, and having a wonderful dream about certain men in tight leather trousers and long curly black hair when he was dragged out of his slumber by the shrilling sound of the telephone by his bed. 

It took a moment as his eyes popped open to the darkness, and he turned and frowned. Oh, yeah. He had installed a phone by his bed. Why did he make that choice again? It was annoying. 

But then he remembered the few times Dolph had tried to get a hold of him only that he couldn’t because the one in the entrance hall was never answered. He reached for the cordless contraption and hit the answer button. 

“Lo’?” 

“Harry? Are you asleep?” It was Phillip. 

“Time is it?” 

“It’s almost two.” 

“Yeah, not often I get to sleep early so I took advantage of it. Everything okay?” asked Harry sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“You wanted to go to a frea- er - a party right?” he asked correcting himself. 

Harry nodded, but then realized Phillip couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I do. So, tonight?” 

“Mhmm, did you get the package Jean-Claude left for you?” 

“I did, I haven’t looked in it yet. I don’t want to let Draco know I’m up to something.” He wasn’t about to admit that he was too chicken shit to look inside. “It’s best to leave him out of this.” 

“Okay,” said Phillip. “Can you get me at eight in front of Guilty Pleasures?” 

“Sure.” It was apparent, he meant at night, and so he didn’t bother to clarify. “Anything else I should know?” 

“... I can’t talk you out of this can I?” 

“No, sorry Phillip. If you can’t do it, I’ll just go on my own.” 

“Hell no! The least I can do is tag along and make sure you don’t get into trouble. Besides, Jean-Claude could kill me if I let you go alone.” 

Harry frowned as he laid back against the pillows. “I would be fine on my own, and if this is a problem for you, Phillip, I do not want to drag you back in when you were trying to get out.” 

“I’ll be fine. I can handle myself.” 

“So can I.” 

“Probably, but come get me, okay?” Phillip’s voice was pleading, and Harry sighed as he shifted to draw the covers closer. 

“You know I will. But, if at any time you want out of there, let me know, okay? I want to solve this case, but not at the expense of your health and sanity.” 

Phillip laughed. “You’re funny, Harry.” 

“No, I really am not.” 

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. So, eight?” 

“Sounds good to me. Are you dancing tonight?” 

“Nah, I have the night off. I’ll see you then!” Phillip hung up, and Harry sighed feeling like an arse. It was obvious that Phillip had been trying to avoid those places as much as possible, and likely working for Jean-Claude was his way of getting out or at least restraining himself. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Phillip that compelled him to seek out what was obviously dangerous. Harry had no cause to judge, and no reason to, but he would be a bad friend if he didn’t admit to concern. 

Yes, Phillip had become a friend. He was a sweet guy with a nice sense of humor. Perhaps enough time with Jean-Claude would help him overcome whatever it was that rested on his shoulders. 

That was one of the things about Jean-Claude that impressed Harry most. How much he cared about his community and how he wanted to be mainstream. He wanted to be out in the open and he wanted the best for everyone. He could see the shine of respect and adoration in the eyes of men like Buzz. He wanted vampires to be seen not as monsters, but as beings worth something. He wanted to build something unforgettable. 

Harry would do everything he could to help him. He’d put the Black accounts to use and see Riverfront transformed. He placed the phone back in its place and tossed the blankets aside. He knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. 

It was time to go back to being a research clown. He had to figure this out. For Rebecca, for Phillip, for Jean-Claude and all the rest who deserved to have justice served whether it by the police’s hands or his and Edward’s. 

Personally, his money was on Edward. 

Draco left bright and early the next day. He would be gone all night, Harry suspected, and that was fine by him. He called in at work to let Bert know that he was working on a case and wouldn’t be available. He had three clients that night, but they could be put off for another day. It wasn’t like the already deceased was going anywhere after all. 

That was when he finally untied the gauzy bow from the package that had been taunting him for hours. Normally, Harry was curious as a cat, but knowing Jean-Claude’s taste had given him a healthy dose of trepidation. 

His lips formed a ready made scowl the moment he pushed back the soft protective packaging inside, and his fingers grazed leather. “Damn you, Jean-Claude!” he growled, and he could just hear the rich seductive laugh from all the way across the river. 

To Jean-Claude’s credit it wasn’t leather trousers, but that hardly made a difference as he held up the thin article that Harry supposed was considered a vest. It was black and edged in blood red along the neck, and down the sides. It zipped, and was made of very fine leather material. None of that faux stuff that America seemed to be into lately. 

Harry’s mind was back to the question of chaffing. How did this not chafe? Scarily enough he had his answer as he saw a small container of vaseline with a note attached to rub in on the sensitive areas. 

…

Harry’s mind did not go into territories that were better left alone. He did not imagine Jean-Claude rubbing himself down with vaseline only to shine more than he already did. 

“Merlin’s balls, I’ve become a pervert,” Harry grumbled delicately laying the vest aside as he pulled out jeans that could hardly be called new or jeans at all considering the tatters and rips in them. They were black and a black leather belt was attached. How did Jean-Claude know his size? “I really wish you were here so I can hex your pretty bits off.” 

He also found a pair of leather ankle length boots with a silver zipper and red laces. At least he’d have height tonight. He believed that was all, and made to toss the package when something small, black, and thin fell out of the wrappings. 

At first, he thought it was a headband, and while he was no fashionista why would he be given one of those? That was until he grabbed it, and he realized what it was causing his face to burn hotter than Fiendfyre. 

Harry choked.  _ “No _ !” He flung it away from him only for it to land on top of the bedpost, the thin strap dangling with a taunt as he glared at it. “You have to be kidding me! I am _ not _ wearing that!” 

Harry abandoned his room for a shower, and did his best to ignore the taunting so very thin piece of fabric hanging on his bedpost. He ran his fingers along the magical shaver, thanking Merlin that it was so easy. Not that he had any facial hair, but Draco had made it a point to teach him more tidying tricks that he hadn’t considered, and with such a tight ensemble that he was going to be outfitted in, tidying up was definitely on the menu. 

He found out quickly exactly why that piece of fabric had been included, and not just because that was something in Jean-Claude’s taste. The jeans fit him better than a glove and stopped at his hip-bone, forming to his backside and going right up his arse causing him to grimace as he shimmied out of them, and marched nakedly to his room and tugged the fabric off the post. 

“I am so going to hex you, pretty boy. You’re going to be black and blue when I’m through with you,” Harry grumbled. He was sure that if vampires could sneeze Jean-Claude would be having an allergy fit. Maybe his ears were burning? 

Contacts in for the night, and a silent plea that they don’t start itching, Harry checked himself in the mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but admittedly Jean-Claude had taste, funny thin pieces of fabric notwithstanding. For all of a moment he could feel Jean-Claude’s piano fingers glide across the seam of his jeans along his hip to the small bit of flesh that was exposed.

_ “Mon belle, you look positively scrumptious. Don’t get bitten, that is my job.”  _

It wasn’t much, but just enough. The vest was snug, and he had used Vasoline along the seam beneath his arm. He teased his hair much like Draco had the other night. 

Finally he was done, but he had one small problem, and that was where his wands were going to go. He could stick the holly wand in his boot, but he wasn’t quite sure if he could get anything in his pocket. 

He debated all of a second before he reached into a box of junk and withdrew a thin leather cuff. Draco was always buying odd things for no reason at all, and this was one of them. It came in a set, and he thought Edward would be proud because he had a plan. 

If it was only him, he’d only take a wand and hope for the best, but Phillip would be in attendance, and Harry would be responsible for his safety and sanity. Harry would be taking that seriously. He fit the cuffs on, and then slid the Elder Wand into the cuff along his forearm. He cast some notice-me-not magic and saw it dissolving. Not even a vampire would notice it was there as long as they didn’t grab his wrist. 

He took his standard issue gun, and slipped it into his right boot with the holly wand in his left. One would think he was channeling Edward or Moody, but Harry thought it was smart. He had to protect Phillip. It was all he could think about. 

He didn’t think he had any place for the magnum that Edward had given him yesterday, but he could take it with him in the car, just not inside. 

He was about as ready as he could be, and longed to take his moleskin pouch, but there was no place on his body left to hide anything. He felt naked, which wouldn’t be a bad thing if it weren’t for the thin piece of cloth going right up the crack of his arse. 

He hadn’t used any special sprays or anything as he had heard from Jean-Claude that perfumes and colognes were not preferable to vampires in the slightest. 

Harry could understand. He didn’t like them either. He’d stick to his soap and deodorant and let his body do the rest. As long as he didn’t smell like a sweaty pig he was happy. He left a note on the table for Draco by his new laptop, and headed out into waning sunlight. 

He blasted the air conditioner more for Phillip’s benefit than his own as he had cooling charms at his disposable. 

He pulled up to the empty parking lot of Guilty Pleasures, and as the sun was slowly dimming Harry could see the lights trying to shudder on only to go off again thanks to faulty sensors. Perhaps, Jean-Claude should look at that? What if it started a fire? However, his attention was taken by Phillip who looked dressed like him except Phillip’s trousers were leather and tight, and the fishnet really showed his amble muscles and body. 

He was a beautiful man, Harry allowed himself to think, and yes he had noticed the scarring, even scars could be beautiful. But, there was something kind of tragic about his face. Harry didn’t know what his background was or begin to even guess, but it was like Phillip was one of those men who were always on the edge of destruction only to pull back again. 

“W-wow!” Phillip gasped as he hopped into the car with a bit of a spring. “You look amazing!” 

“You think?” Harry asked. “You should have told him no leather! I’m not like you or Jean!” he whined causing Phillip to chuckle. 

“I did tell him no pants, but he just gave me that usual smile of his. Besides, it wasn’t like he ran out that moment. He already had something for you.” 

“Huh?” 

Phillip nodded. “Yeah, he said, and I quote.  _ ‘Mon belle will be perfect tonight, and you will be the perfect gentleman, non? Do not let a hair so much as be plucked from mon belle, am I clear, Phillip?’ _ God, he said it with such a voice that there was no way I could refuse.” 

“I’m so going to turn his hair blue,” Harry sulked as he backed out of the near empty lot, and made a U turn to head back toward the bridge. “Uhm, where am I going?” Phillip gave him directions, and then he sagged in his seat with his shoulders slumped. “You okay? You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. You said it yourself right? I’m only a victim if I make myself one.” 

“...” Harry twitched. “I didn’t mean for you to take it and torture yourself, Phillip.” 

“I know you didn’t, but have you ever been addicted to something? And yet at the same time you hate it?” 

Harry felt the gurgle that emitted lodged in his throat. “Yes.” As the very first thing that came to his mind was dark magic. 

“What did you do to break the cycle?” asked Phillip. 

“I pushed through it so that it wouldn’t control me,” said Harry. “If you must know it was dark magic. In my world there are three types of magic. Light, dark, and neutral. All of them have an addicting quality depending on your nature. I am a bit of a special case as I was naturally aligned toward light when I was born thanks to my parents affinity even though I was born with the necromancy talent; it hadn’t grown yet or developed into what it is today, but I was blasted with dark magic as a baby causing my alignment to corrupt and skew. I denied it for years, never even thinking about it, and then when I realized that necromancy is dark magic - I had to embrace it or risk my dead friends or even strangers coming back to try and sleep in my bed.” 

“Ouch!” Phillip’s eyes widened. “So, you had an addiction?” 

“Yes. But, I got control over it. It wasn’t easy, but sometimes you have to go dark to get to the other side. You can get lost in the lust and when you come out on the other side you don’t know where you are or what you’re doing or what has happened.” Phillip was bobbing his head with wide-eyes. “It’s a sickening feeling. One you hate, and yet that underlining linger of lust clings to you and begs for more.”

“You do understand,” Phillip said breathlessly. - 

“I do, but I also understand that sometimes too much is too much. So, please promise me that you will let me know if it gets too much? I will get us out of there in a snap, and they will be none the wiser.” 

Phillip’s shoulders relaxed, and his chocolate brown eyes became boyishly playful again. “I promise.” 

“Good, that’s all I want.” They passed by various businesses, apartment blocks, and even a nursing home with an age-old cemetery nearby when Phillip pointed out an American Victorian house with dark red brick plopped in the middle of grown up hedges and trees. Harry’s house was a bit more English, a little on the Georgian side. He pulled into the grass beside the house so that he wasn’t blocked in case he needed a quick getaway. 

“Are we early?” 

Phillip nodded. “For this you belong to Jean-Claude. I’m showing you around. Can you handle that?” 

“If it keeps you safe, yes.” He cut he engine and reached across Phillip who grinned at him. “Hush you.” 

“I didn’t say anything, but I  _ like _ where you’re leaning,” he teased and boldly placed a hand on the small of Harry’s back as he opened the glove compartment. Phillip’s eyes widened when he saw the silver gleaming magnum. “That’s new… are you that mad at me?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re being silly. It’s for protection. I can’t fit it anywhere, but you never know, and yes I might have my standard issue somewhere on my body.” 

“Can I search you?” 

“Haha, I belong to Jean right?” 

“A boy can tease.” 

Harry patted him on the cheek. “You can tease all you want. Ready?” 

Phillip’s eyes had gone from a dancing playful glimmer to a bit on the dull side. “Yeah, let’s do this.” He took a deep shuddering breath as if to brace himself. 

Harry squeezed his bicep gently. “The sooner I get information the sooner everyone will be safer, Phillip, including you.” 

“I know, I’m not a coward.” 

“I never said you were. Trust me, men three times your age are far more cowardly than you are.” 

“You hardly know me.” 

“I know enough, and none of my friends are cowards. Not even that blond git that I live with.” It was the last thing he said before getting out the car leaving Phillip to laugh. 

If he could make the man laugh during a tense and scary moment for him, Harry felt as if he’d done his job. 

At first, Harry thought they might have been underdressed for such a party, but when a woman answered in nothing but clingy lingerie, he realized that he may have overdressed. Her name was Madge, and she was the homeowner. Her nails were a classic black, long, and they scratched down Phillip instantly who shuddered slightly. She was not the only one there, a tall leggy black woman with long winding hair and light bites on her neck elegantly sauntered forward. Her eyes were glowing and she was smirking as her chest bounced in what must have been an attractive move to any man. 

“Well, Phillip you brought us a delicious snack.” As she reached for Harry, Phillip let out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Now, Rochelle, I don’t think it’s wise to be pawing at the property of Jean-Claude. He won’t appreciate that one bit.” 

Eyes snapped to Harry who smiled coyly. “Hello there, I’m Harry Black,” he tried to sound perky and cheerful. He wasn’t sure he managed it until he saw the smiles gracing both women. “Phillip is my guide for the evening.” 

He learned that Rochelle and Madge were the two women in charge of the party tonight, and Harvey was a trussed up man in leather with nothing on the backside whatsoever who owned the house with Madge. Phillip was being touched and teased by all three, while Harry answered questions where he could. He leaned closer to Phillip and somehow managing to take the attention from what was obviously a hungry pack of shewolves intent on devouring him. 

Even if it came at a cost of being touched by sharp nails or breasts pushed into his face. 

“I am surprised that Jean-Claude would allow his little human to come out and play.” 

“He affords me all kinds of generosities,” said Harry craning his neck back with a glowing smile. “You know how he is, always one for playing.” Everyone laughed at this, and Harry was pleased that he was able to say the right thing. Merlin forbid if he made a mistake. 

“Really does, I’m almost jealous,” laughed Phillip joining the conversation. Harry had managed to somehow take the spotlight and wedge himself between Madge and Phillip, and keep the conversation going so that the man could catch his breath. 

That was when they were interrupted by a woman running out of the kitchen in a long sheer pink negligee that did nothing to cover her ample frame. 

“Phillip! Darling! You’re here!” 

“C-Crystal!” Phillip choked as nails sank into his chest again. 

“We’ve missed you so much!” 

“Ah… well you see, things are busy these days.” 

“Sure are,” interjected Harry casually sliding, and maybe he used a bit of magic to scoot her back a foot. “Hi, I’m Harry. I belong to Jean-Claude.” 

Her eyes glittered. “My aren’t you a beautiful one!” He kept a smile as her nails grazed him much like the others. Least she went for the cheek this time. “Oh, is he here for all of us? We are going to have a scrumptious night!” 

“I’m just here as a guest. Observing you know? I am British if you couldn’t tell.” Why they thought this was funny, Harry would never know. 

“He’s not to be touched,” said Phillip genially. “ _ Yet _ .” 

“I don’t see any bites,” said Madge circling Harry and Phillip like a hawk. She eyed Harry critically up and down. “Why don’t you show us where he’s bitten you?” she asked clasping her hands to his shoulders and hissing in his ear. 

She smelled strange, and he resisted the urge to cringe. 

“Sorry, Madge dear, but my thighs and other parts of me are not for viewing, particularly by the ladies, and without Jean-Claude present. He gets a bit irksome should I have any fun without him.” 

“Oh, I bet he does…” Madge grinned. 

Before any of them could challenge him on this a familiar crisp voice floated through the living room. “Ladies you say? Then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a man confirming would you?” Instinctively, Phillip drew back as though fear tugged him. Harry thought his instincts were rather spot on. 

Harry’s heart leaped into his throat when he whipped his head around to see Edward standing beside a new woman who’d only come through the door with auburn hair and chalk green makeup that reminded Harry of a clown. Dammit, he was going to be in trouble for not being more alert. He’d been so focused on trying to get these people to like him that he had cut off all his senses. 

“I didn’t know you were that kind of man Remus,” said the forty-something year old with way too much makeup. 

Remus? Really? Harry thought proud of himself for keeping his face straight. 

Harry thought Edward could do better than the woman on his arm. He couldn’t believe that the assassin he knew so well was standing in front of him wearing a pair of loose stonewash jeans, and a thin silk blue button down shirt that was wide open showing his well toned chest. He had enough white faded scars to pass as one of the donators. His blond hair was tousled as though he’d just been shagged, and now Harry wondered where the hell he kept his weapons. Probably in his jeans somewhere. He probably had a crosswire of some sort, and after a quick critical eye roving over, he thought he might have seen a crease where a gun or knife could be in hiding. 

Then again, Edward was good at improvising on a whim, anything in this room could be a weapon, especially the nails these ladies were wearing. He’d probably rip one off and stab someone in the eye with it. 

Yeah, that was Edward. 

Still, did he have to use Remus? At least it wasn’t Teddy. He’d never forgive him if he had used his godson’s name. 

“I’m every kind of man,” said Edward seriously. How he was able to make his eyes flare so bright causing everyone, including Harry to shiver discreetly he would never know. There was no magic involved. It was just Edward. “So, how about it? You wish to prove it to me? I can take you somewhere  _ real _ private.” 

Madge leaned closer to Edward, and Harry was impressed with his acting. He was much better at it than Harry. Surely, Edward was thinking of a thousand ways to maim each and everyone in this room, including himself. 

Phillip made a noise. “I don’t think…” 

“It’s okay, Phillip,” Harry purred with a hand going up his arm, and sending a discrete pulse of magic. “I don’t have any problems showing myself to -  _ Remus _ .” Merlin, how was he not choking? He should win an oscar for this! Harry stalked forward like a cat on the prowl. His eyes never leaving Edward’s cold blue ones. He ignored all in the room as he stood chest to chest with the man. 

Edward hooked his finger into one of the loops of Harry’s jeans, and the entire room let out varying noises that ranged between arousal and excitement. The woman he brought was grinning widely. 

“I told you he was a catch.” 

_ Until you wind up dead _ , Harry mused letting the man lead as Phillip called out. “Harry…” 

Harry looked over his shoulder and winked. “Jean-Claude never said I couldn’t play with boys,  _ Phillip _ . I’ll be back.” To add an effect he boldly ran his palm down Edward’s back, and pushed against him until his chin was touching the man’s shoulder. “Just so you know I’m very sensitive,” he mock-whispered causing more giggles to erupt from the women. He might have heard Phillip groan, but Harry promised to make it up to him. 

He would not blow Edward’s cover, and they needed straight stories before the big guys showed up and things got out of hand. 

“I can see that,” said Edward in perfect tandem. Harry let out a deep breath when they got to the laundry room. Instantly Harry thew his hands up to silence the area, and locked the door. Edward whirled around. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

He was taken aback by Edward’s sudden ire. It wasn’t normal for him to act this way. “Excuse me? I’m not the one who used the name Remus.” 

“I thought it was a name you’d remember.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to get  _ you _ information.” 

“I told you I’d handle it,” said Edward severely. 

“How was I to know you were coming here? I didn’t even know I was coming until the last minute!” 

“We need to get our stories straight,” said Edward succinctly. “Out there is a pack of sheep, but when the wolves come…” 

“I know the game, Edward. You taught me remember?” 

Edward really glared as he pushed Harry against the dryer. “I must have been a lousy teacher because you didn’t even notice me.” 

“I was doing my best to get them to like me.” 

“They don’t have to like you. It’s not _ them _ you have to charm!” 

“What is your deal, Edward?” Harry hissed. 

Edward’s eyes changed briefly, and it was as if he’d been possessed by something because he took a step back and shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it. Do you have a gun on you?” 

“I do. It’s not just my life at stake right now,” said Harry folding his arms over his chest. 

Edward shook his head. “It’s always about others, why can’t you think about yourself?”

“I can take care of myself. It’s others who can’t take care of themselves.” 

“Like the little snack on legs out there?” 

“Phillip is his name.” 

“I know his fucking name, Little Raven, I just don’t care. What I want to know is why you would even risk coming to a place like this?” 

“You taught me,” said Harry flatly, and Edward paused and stared at him critically. Harry met his eyes, and it was a battle of concentration. Neither of them blinked.

Edward then smiled, surprising Harry completely. “Yeah, I guess I did teach you a little too well to go straight to the source, huh? I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.” 

“Oh, I think I know what’s gotten into you,” Harry said with a side smile. 

“Don’t be coy, Little Raven,” said Edward shaking his head. “So, who are you?” 

“I’m Jean-Claude’s human.” 

“That shit won’t fly when the big guys arrive,” said Edward. “You have no scent. You have no bites on you except - well…” His finger traced down Harry’s shoulder to his elbow where a white crescent mark had always lingered, never quite healing. Harry resisted shivering as he followed the path of Edward’s touch. “Unless you were serious and you have bites in other places?” 

Harry glared. “You know I don’t.” 

“Pity. It would have been a very good story. He should have backed your play.” 

“He will back my play.” 

“Then why hasn’t he bit you?” 

“I won’t let him,” said Harry, and Edward smirked. 

“Childish.” 

“So says you, the biggest child I’ve ever met.” 

Edward grinned viciously and threw his head back laughing. “Haha, only you have the balls to get away with saying that to someone like me.” 

“I know I have balls, and I know how to use them. You did teach me, so if you want to blame anyone for my mouth and the way I’m doing things. You need to look over there in that mirror at the bastard staring at you.” 

“Smooth. I’ll give you a point for that one. So, what are you going to do when the big guys come?” 

“I don’t know yet,” admitted Harry, and flicking away the glare that he received. “Look, I think best on the fly. I never have a super solid plan, and unlike you I have no idea what is going to happen tonight so I can’t plan. Tell me,  _ Remus _ , did you plan a strategy other than a shoot-em up game when you first came to one of these things?” 

“Guess I didn’t,” acknowledged Edward. “What are we going to do about this?” 

“No one has to see a damn thing. Jean-Claude might not be Master of the City, but he has the clout to put pressure on anyone who pisses him off enough.” 

“You’re sure he’ll back you?” 

“Positive. He is the one who dressed me.” 

Edward grinned. “Yeah, I guess he would have to be, and is that a thong?” He plucked at the thin material peeking up over Harry’s hip-bone. 

Harry yelped at the snap, his cheeks coloring. “Yes, I tried to go without it. It didn’t work,” he mumbled crossing his arms childishly. “Do you know Phillip?” 

“Only name and some bits I’ve found.” 

“What is his story?” 

“Why? Is it important?” 

“It is kind of, if I’m going to wean him from this addiction. You remember what I was like.” 

“You were stronger than that kid,” said Edward. “He’ll never break free. Not until he’s dead.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“I don’t like to lie.” 

“You lie all the time.” 

“True, I don’t like to lie about stupid things. How’s that? He’s as good as dead. All that boy is out there, is a piece of food. He’s the antelope amongst a pack of wolves or lions. You take your pick because it’s going to end nasty, and you know it.” 

“Please, tell me?” 

Edward was never impressed when he said  _ please _ , but he usually followed through with whatever Harry asked. “You remember that last gig we did?” 

“Yeah, the one with mad vampires, and you used a flamethrower?” How could he forget? 

“Very one, the lead guy that we took out, Valentine is his name. He broke the kid.” 

Harry blinked. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, he had that boy before he was even thirteen every which way. It’s what he preferred, little boys. It’s what he liked, and he broke him. He broke him into a thousand tiny pieces that can’t be glued back together. Not even with your brand of magic. He’s a dead kid walking,” said Edward emotionlessly. “But, I suppose if he’s going to go out. He might as well go out smiling, perhaps you can give him a good night?” 

“I’m not for sale.” 

“Bullshit. Everyone has a price. Even you, Little Raven.” Harry didn’t believe that, but he hated it when Edward used that flat tone of voice because it usually meant he was right about something. “It might not be cold hard cash. It might not be the rush of the kill or the thrill of the hunt,” he continued. “But you have a price. Maybe that price is those you care about. Maybe that is what brings the monster out. Perhaps, it is the _ only _ way.” 

Harry nervously licked his lips and averted his gaze, staring at a stack of towels laying nearby. They were neatly folded with a gold monogram, M&H. “So, the story?” 

“Acquaintances, hooked up a few times. You like bad boys right?” 

Harry pretended he didn’t hear that. “I guess it could work.” 

“What about the kid? What does he know?” 

“Nothing except I’m looking into the vampire murders. Jean-Claude ordered him to watch over me. But, Jean-Claude is not Nikolaos.” 

“For now, he’s not.” 

“I assure you he isn’t.” 

“I don’t believe in assurances unless I see them myself,” said Edward. 

Harry shook his head. “Jean-Claude risked his own life to try and keep me from meeting her. He went so far as to tell her no, which you don’t do. She was ready to kill him or worse when I barged into that room. I wasn’t supposed to see her.” Edward smirked and then he took a step forward causing Harry to drop his arms and straighten. “What are you-?” 

“Has to look real doesn’t it? It has to look as though I gave you one _ thorough _ search,” Harry squeaked in a very undignified way when Edward ripped the button from Harry’s jeans, tugging him closer and brought a hand to curve around his neck. That same hand that ripped his jeans was now caressing at his hip, sweeping experienced fingers across his thong. Harry let out another yelp when the man fisted the thin material and tugged causing it to slide against him. 

Edward’s smirk was galling. Harry was about to have a heart-attack. “Where do you think he’d bite you?” He had moved on to toying with the zipper on Harry’s vest dragging it up, and back down again, fingers teasing between the leathery fabric along his smooth skin. 

If Harry was shaking, neither of them acknowledged it, but he managed to ball Edward’s silk shirt into his fingers, and grip as tight as he could. It was either that or draw blood on his palms as he remained still. His back was trying not to arch into Edward’s touch, and his mind felt as if it was a wind tunnel of nothingness. He couldn’t think properly, and what he was feeling went beyond some of the things Draco had described. 

“Anywhere, probably everywhere.” 

“Lot of options then.” 

He’d never been this close to Edward except when they were about to die, but didn’t because the bastard was wily enough to have a grenade or two in his pocket. 

Harry didn’t fear death. No, not at all, but did he fear this Edward right now? So close that he could taste Edward’s breath? He smelled like scotch liquor. Harry’s blood rushed, his face warming as Edward put pressure on his neck, bringing them closer until their lips were barely an inch apart, but they never touched. Each movement was methodical, and Harry bit down on his tongue to temper what could have come out. The walls were silenced, they wouldn’t hear a thing. No need to embarrass himself any further. 

“You are very good, Little Raven. Perhaps these emotions of yours are useful,” he drawled and Harry found himself focusing on the man’s mouth, the way his lips curved with each word spoken. “I bet this vampire you’re stringing along is about to combust with how sensitive and coy you act, Little Raven.” 

“I don’t act like anything more than who I am.” 

“Exactly.” 

“And I’m not stringing him along. He flirts with me, and I brush it off. He’s a friend.” 

“Hardly. You’re in the midst of a foreplay you didn’t even know about,” He could feel Edward’s mouth brush along his chin and jaw, everywhere except for his mouth. 

He didn’t want Edward to kiss him. 

_ Right? _

He could see the tiny flaws in Edward’s mouth, a cut or two above the curved skin that had healed over time. He hadn’t noticed it before, but then noticing a sociopathic mentor’s lips was simply a no-no. Tilting his head to grant access, Harry kept his breathing as even as he could, all the while he was burning with every stroke to his neck and cheek. Surely he was as hot as a stove by now? “I’ve never had foreplay so I wouldn’t know.”

“Untouched and unspoiled, exactly the way some like them.” Edward’s voice sounded like gravel across the skin, and he did arch to allow some give when the smooth calloused hand slid down from behind. Once again tugging at the strap lodged between his cheeks. 

“You?” 

“I usually like a little experience with my boys makes it easier to slide inside,” He hissed as Harry clicked his jaw. “The ladies are a bit different to me, that’s the chauvinistic side.” 

“You don’t know how to be chauvinistic,” Harry pointed out, desperate to keep him talking, and fearing that if they both went quiet their story would meld too well. 

“Some of my identities do.” 

“How many do you have?” 

“Enough.” And then before Harry could lose it completely, and like the bastard Edward seemed to be, the man took a big step back, boots scraping the tile. Harry let go of his shirt, it was well and truly wrinkled from his scrunching grip. There might even be a hole from the way his nails dug in. Maybe next time he’d sink into flesh. If there was a next time. 

Merlin, he didn’t wish that.  _ Nope. Not, Harry _ . “You look well and truly thrashed my Little Raven,” he said with a hint of satisfaction. 

Harry wasn’t sure if he could move, and yes, he was aroused and raging hard. It was no wand in his pocket. How had he not known that Edward, the raging sociopath that he was, could nearly rival Jean-Claude when it came to seduction?

“You are a bastard!” Harry harrumphed, and decided that showing his stiffness would probably throw a point in their favor, and so he did the one thing he never thought he’d do. 

He walked out exactly the way Edward left him, and he could have sworn he heard a throaty chuckle from the laundry room. 

_ Bastard!  _


	7. Chapter Six

#  Chapter Six

Harry hadn’t been so cruel as to leave Phillip alone with nothing to protect him. He might have added a Misdirection Charm to his arm so that anyone trying to touch him would suddenly stop and remind themselves that they had something better to do. He was pleased to see that Phillip was sitting ramrod straight on one of the cushions on the floor, and Crystal was stuffing her face full of crisps even though her eyes kept hungrily roving over Phillip as if he was the crisp flavor she sought. His eyes were wide and round and he was looking from one person to another, but when he saw Harry he flinched. 

“Are you alright, Harry?” asked Phillip rising as everyone turned.

“Someone looks like they had fun,” Madge purred as she spread her legs in what she must have thought was a coquettish fashion. She was sitting on Rochelle’s lap, and Harvey was behind them, stroking both of their necks. 

“Moony is like that,” said Harry changing tune when the man appeared right behind him as though he were a vampire. 

“Moony?” asked the auburn that came with him. 

“Sorry, slip of the tongue,” Harry clucked it toward Edward, and let his eyes twinkle. 

“You should know better than to give away a secret, especially when it can be used against us,” Edward swiped a hand along Harry’s back before veering around to kiss the auburn haired woman with too much makeup. 

_ Yuck _ . Harry wasn’t jealous one single bit. 

“You’re to blame for that. You know way too many sensitive spots for me to suddenly be coherent, thank you very much!” He huffed, and sank down as though he belonged on the arm of the chair near Edward as the woman he was with giggled. 

“Maybe we’ll both get luckier tonight?” she asked. “I’d love to see more!” 

Phillip was staring from one to the other, his eyes couldn’t be more round with shock and a flicker of fear over the way Harry was acting. 

Harry soon had the crowd, with the help of Edward, eating out of the palm of their hands as more and more arrived. 

“So, how many bites did he have?” asked Rochelle inquisitively. 

“I lost count,” Edward drawled, and Harry brought his shoulders up. 

“How can I resist?” 

“You can’t! No one can!” Rochelle laughed heartily. “Perhaps next time you can talk him into making an appearance. I’m sure we could pull out the red carpet for him, hm?” She looked at Madge who was bobbing her head along with her breasts at the same time. 

Harry really didn’t want to see anything more than he had on that night. Please, Merlin let them stay inside the top. He was tempted to sneak a sticking charm on her. 

“I don’t think Jean-Claude can be persuaded, he  _ is _ persuasion,” Harry sing-songed as Edward handed him a drink, which he pretended to drink. 

It was about an hour or so that had passed before Darlene, the woman that Edward had come with, was trying her hardest to crawl into Phillip’s lap only to blink and change course. She came after Harry a few times, but surprisingly it was Edward who distracted her. 

Crystal was now on top of some poor boy that looked even younger than Nathaniel, the boy was scared and Harry had half a mind to charm and hex the shit out of every one of these bastards. He scowled silently to himself as he remembered a conversation he once had with Ron Weasley, his so-called best friend, and how he had jokingly admitted that there was no possible way for a man to be forced by a woman. Next time Harry saw Ron, he was going to hex his balls black and blue, and then project  _ this _ memory into his mush of a mind. Give him a right scare he deserved. 

Harry might have flicked his wrist as he brushed it against Edward’s thigh, and Crystal started having a coughing fit as though she were asphyxiating. She crawled off the boy, Harry looked away so that he didn’t see what was between her legs as she rushed off to the kitchen for water. 

The boy looked relieved as though he could breathe air once more. 

Phillip was eyeing everyone, and then turning back to Harry who never lost his playful smile. “I - need some air,” breathed Phillip looking a bit on the green side. 

“Let me go with you,” said Harry placing his drink down. He could feel Edward’s hand along his side, and the two maneuvered through the bodies that kept constantly showing up. So many people arriving that Madge, the homemaker that she was, couldn’t keep track of them all to greet them except when she straddled one or two.

By Merlin they were about to have an orgy! Harry thought trying not to feel so judgy, but the poor boy’s face on the floor. Some of this was hardly what Harry would call consensual. He was now huddled in a corner with his knees to his chest, and flickering his eyes around nervously. 

Phillip by now was gripping Harry’s arm; and while the July heat even in the dead of night was raging, it was nothing to the cloying claustrophobia of the house they’d only vacated. 

Phillip managed to get close to Harry’s car before he nearly dropped, hands on his knees and panting. “H-how?” 

“How what?” asked Harry coming around after conjuring some ice water in a goblet, and handing it to the man who stared at it before taking it with shaking hands. 

“How did they not- come at me? I mean, you saw Darlene, she tried! But, she kept…” 

“How did I just give you a full glass of ice water from a silver goblet?” Harry shot back with a side-smile. “ _ Magic _ .” 

Phillip stared at him owlishly as he gulped down the cold contents of water. “I am confused.” 

“Don’t ask those questions right now, we are out in the open,” Harry hissed quietly, and Phillip could only nod. 

“Y-you, how did you? You had them eating out of your hands…” 

“I told you, I know how to work a crowd when I have to. I don’t like it. I have a half a mind to go in there and hex a few bits off, but I can’t do that.” 

“Now, whose being reckless?” Phillip couldn’t help but ask. 

“Meh, I have my moments!” said Harry waving his hand, though he did cast a detection spell in their radius to make sure no one was listening. “Besides, you can’t do everything alone, Phillip. You can fight this, fight for what you want.” 

“How?” he asked in such a voice that it reminded him of a little boy. 

Harry thought back to what Edward had told him. No, Edward had to be wrong, Phillip could be saved. He was too good not to. “Keep looking forward, and not looking backwards at all the missteps, eventually you’ll make it to the end.” 

“End, I think the only end I have is a very clear cut death,” he said turning and leaning against the car as he stared at the ground. “They’re not bad people, the ones in there…” 

“...” 

“I’m sorry if I screwed up your view.” 

“You didn’t do anything that I wasn’t expecting,” said Harry. “It is true, I am judging those inside rather harshly, but I’m only doing so because they may or may not be hurting an innocent. If they hurt themselves, that is on them. I can’t help them because I don’t know them, and they don’t want help.” 

“And me?” 

“You’ve become a friend to me, Phillip, and that might not mean much in your world, but it means everything to me,” said Harry shifting to stand in front of him. He may not be imposing, but he’d learned to walk tall when he had to. “I grew up without a single friend in sight. I was shut in the dark for the first eleven years of my life, and then a miracle happened. Someone came to get me. Someone who isn’t even human. Someone everyone thought was a rotten apple. Someone who didn’t belong just because of how he was born, and maybe some lack of common sense because of the creatures he thought were harmless weren’t, but that’s another story,” said Harry waving his hand waspishly. “The point is, I got help, and you can get help. But, you have to want it. I can’t do anything if you don’t want it. Jean-Claude can’t do anything if you don’t want it. You have to want and accept the help, otherwise, it’s all on you, Phillip. It is your choice.” 

“... I never had a choice,” Phillip whispered brokenly. 

“You do now.” His words must have had an effect because Phillip took a deep breath, he lost the look of a kicked puppy, and his shaking hands began to steady. 

As the cicadas sang through the silence, Harry’s mind focused on it. Phillip’s must have to. They could hear laughter inside the house, and the heat of July caressed at his neck and exposed skin, but then - something new washed across him. 

It was slick and shadowy, a strange thudding power began to resound from the ground. Harry bristled and looked around, eyes scanning the area thoroughly. 

“What are you-?” But Harry shot out his hand, gently clasped the man’s mouth to quiet him. Phillip got the message and Harry let go as he began to untie his boots as the tingling sensation coasted across him. He still had socks on, so it kept his wand and gun in place. 

He placed both feet on the ground, and that strange hum began to vibrate, like a pulse thicker from the soles of his feet to his toes and up his ankles. It was a slow rise, but there was no crescendo, no deep thrum that told him it was successful. Something dark was in the air, something brewing. Harry’s head snapped up. “Someone’s raising something!” he hissed, and Phillip blinked. 

“Huh?” 

He should go in right now and tell Edward, but he was in deep cover. He couldn’t tell the man in fear of blowing it. 

“Phillip. Get in the car, and stay there,” Harry ordered moving to the Lexus and throwing the door open. He dived across the seats, and pulled out the magnum that he never thought he’d use. He stuffed it in the back of his tight jeans as he turned to see Phillip standing there owlishly. “ _ Get in the car _ . You won’t be noticed, whatever happens.  _ Do not leave the car _ . Go!” He pointed to the driver’s seat, and Phillip submissively dived into it. 

Harry flicked his wrist making the Elder Wand slide into his hand and he cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm. He then turned and ran toward the feeling of pulsing power that kept rising and falling. It lead him tumbling over hardened acorns, the earth slightly damp from various rain showers despite the rugged heat. The backyard of the manor was large with high towering hedges. He latched onto the thread of pulsing power when he heard a loud animal cry of pain. 

It was a goat, which meant a strong or very well aged summons was going down. If this was his killer then he’d have him and could be done with the whole party. He would not call it a freak party, but he might have been tempted for all of a second when he saw a boy being nearly raped. Harry had to get Phillip out of this whole setup. It was obvious that he didn’t have the heart to be in it, and it was slowly killing him. Edward might be a bastard, but he was usually a  _ right _ bastard. 

He leaped onto the hedges, and grimaced as skin was scratched by the nettles and thicket, and managed to vault himself over as the smell of tangy copper stung his nose and slid into his mouth. Harry had always been sensitive to blood. It came with the profession.

He could have gone an easier way and possibly found a path, but unless Harry had a squad behind him or one single Edward as backup going through the front anywhere with this much power was stupid. He could feel the push and pull of the magic take hold, summonings were not very long affairs, but it could get dramatic depending on the age and degradation of the raising involved. He moved beyond the thicket of towering trees to an age-old cemetery sequestered between the house and wood. 

A scream of a man wrenched the night, and the hiss of a woman followed behind. “Where is it? Where is the zombie you promised us?”

Harry peered around the large tree to see at least six towering figures surrounding a grave that had to be old. A man was kneeling in the middle, but he couldn’t get a good look at him, and the woman was over him, her arm reared back ready to strike him again. His eyes narrowed to get a better look. She was every bit the Mistress of the Dark as she looked, and when she tilted her head her eyes gleamed beneath the moonlight. Her hair was a black curtain that fell down her back. He could feel her strength, at least a hundred or so. Maybe a bit less. She was strong. 

Harry could do nothing from this position, and Edward would kill him if he died. Damn you, Edward, Harry thought. He had no right to be his conscience. 

“It was too old, Theresa!” the man’s voice riddled with fear squealed when he was struck again. 

“You said chickens weren’t enough, so we got you a goat to kill. But no zombie! I thought you were good at this!” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it! Please!” that man pleaded, and Harry could see through the sliver of moonlight that he looked almost recognizable, but why was he recognizable was the question? He was blond and tall, but he had a face that Harry had seen before. It didn’t really matter, this man was in trouble, and Harry was going to protect him. 

Harry made to step out to defend the man, ignoring the inner voice hissing at him in a very Edward tone not to do it when a strong arm not only wrapped around his waist, but a hand clasped to his mouth and pinned him against the rock hard body. He didn’t have time to yelp or feel fear from his captor. He didn’t have time to squeal or squirm, not that he could with the cast iron grip on his waist. 

“ _ Mon belle _ , do be quiet this night lest you disturb the already fractured harmony,” the seductive serious voice of Jean-Claude sent Harry’s chest thumping. “They are expecting you mon belle, drawing you out to overtake you. Do be a good boy.” 

It took Harry several succinct heart-beats to roll what Jean-Claude had said through his mind, and his stiff limbs began to relax. He thought he felt Jean-Claude sigh with relief, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes were too glued to the scene not far from him. He let Jean-Claude drag him backwards, one very quiet step at a time through the trees, across the acorns, hugging the tightly knitted hedges that Harry had vaulted over. He kept moving, dragging Harry like a doll with him. How had he not noticed Jean-Claude’s strength before? 

_ He’d never been carried, _ Harry’s mind supplied. 

Harry wanted to speak, to tell him that the killer may be one of them. May even be the man he was going to defend. He wouldn’t know until he saw and met with him! He needed to get closer, but as he tried to pull Jean-Claude’s hand away from his mouth, the seductive master gave a soft breathy  _ tut tut _ with his lips. “I do not wish to bruise your silk skin, but I would rather bruises than a dead mon belle. Just wait.”

Harry internally grumbled, damn vampire! Did he not realize that this could be over with tonight? Soon enough, Harry was feeling the wind in his hair, Jean-Claude turned them around, and was moving at a swifter pace than his eyes could see until they got to a long stretch of country road. Finally, after all the holding, Jean-Claude stopped moving. “If I let you go, will you promise not to rush off into heedless danger?” Harry didn’t want to promise anything, and Jean-Claude knew he always kept a promise if he could, but he really wanted to be free of the suddenly brutish vampire, and gave a quick nod. Jean-Claude chuckled. “I can feel your stirrings,  _ Harry _ . You are such a precious creature.” He let go, and Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He whirled around and pushed as hard as he could at Jean-Claude causing the man to arch an amused eyebrow as he took one step backwards. “I applaud you for being able to move a master, mon belle.” 

“Fuck you!” Harry gasped out. “It could have been over tonight. He could have been the one!” 

Jean-Claude shook his head, curls blowing in the weak heated breeze. “It matters not if you are not there to see the end.” His eyes then narrowed as he raked Harry up and down. He stepped forward like a predator across a pond without sinking. “Who has soiled you this night, mon belle?” 

Harry blinked at the sudden sharp turn, and tried to figure out what the pursed vampire was saying when he looked down to see that he had no button on his trousers. “Keeping my cover, and I wasn’t  _ soiled _ as you so put it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your fault for putting me in this getup!” 

Jean-Claude’s perfect lip twitched. “I do believe you look dashing.” 

“I hate leather,” Jean-Claude’s perfect brow rose again, and Harry rolled his eyes. “ _ On me _ ,” he amended. “I don’t wear leather well as I’m a scrawny little shit.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Non, that is where you are wrong, mon belle. It is the type and way you wear it that matters. You are a lovely sight, dancing beneath the stars and the white of the moon.” He looked up at the glowing sky. 

Harry grumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had enough blood pressure spikes for one night. “Jean, I don’t think right now is the time for… er whatever it is you do. We have a mad group of vampires probably about to kill a potential lead, and if he’s not a potential lead then he’s an innocent, and I need to do something!” He made to march back when Jean-Claude moved with a speed too fast for Harry to catch, and he was pinned by strong hands. 

“You promised, mon belle. Do not break it,” Jean-Claude hissed into his ear with a voice that came with a rare thread of warning. 

It had Harry’s neck prickling, his spine tingled straight down into his toes. “But…” 

“Non! Call me a monster if you wish, but I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for the sake of anyone, no matter how innocent they may or may not be! It is not worth you!” 

“You’re wrong. It is worth it. If I can stop the pain, stop the hurting, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

“Then I will do what I must to prevent you from doing so.” He’d never heard Jean-Claude’s voice so thick like steel. “Did you not tell that group that you were mine? You belong to  _ me _ ?” 

“...” Harry took in a sharp breath. “You know I was - making a play. I had to do something.” Merlin, what had he done? He had stepped into it now, and he had a vampire that while kind had a very fierce determination in him. A power that Harry had somehow missed. Jean-Claude was one hell of a master, Harry learned that night.

“Oui, you could have chosen any route to take. Any story to feed a pack of sheep who will not know the difference come ‘morrow.” Jean-Claude stepped back, but only just. Harry had no personal space as hands cupped his cheeks, and he knew they warmed beneath the master’s touch. “Yet you chose to belong to me.” 

He was desperate to get out of it as the fear began to cloud him. So many things he didn’t understand. “Only because Phillip suggested it, and I thought it was a good one. Am I wrong?” 

“Non, you are correct, wholly and truly.” 

“You don’t mean that,” said Harry licking his lips. 

Jean-Claude’s expression closed down like a Gringotts vault. “How can you say that now, mon belle?” he asked with a cold harshness. Harry didn’t like the tone used, and yet what could he use as a defense that would get through to him? It was wild enough that Jean-Claude would even think he was worthy of anything past a comment or two or even flirt, and then he had Edward. 

_ What the fuck was going on? _ Harry’s mind screamed anxiously. Since when did he become Mr. Popular with all the dangerous men in St. Louis? He was a nobody. A complete and utter nothing, and if he couldn’t do his job then what the hell was he even worth? 

Jean-Claude let out a shuddered gasp as he slid away when a force pushed between them, and an aura so strong and pale began to radiate around Harry, shielding him completely. Harry drew his arms around his middle, and his eyes swept away from the gorgeous figure as he locked his jaw. 

“I can’t take this right now,” said Harry in a strangled voice. “I don’t understand any of it. I don’t get it. You and Edward and everyone are scaring me, and right now I think I’d rather face a murderous Nikolaos then figure out what the hell is going on! I am Harry. Just Harry. I am nothing special, never have been, and I never wanted to be. I was just an unlucky little shit born to a prophecy that saw everything around me vanish! I am the little boy trapped in a fucking cupboard beneath the stairs without seeing even so much as the light of day until I was plucked up and thrown into a world that I’m still trying to grasp hold of over a decade later. I was pushed repeatedly in front of that man, eleven, twelve, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen… and finally - finally I thought I was done. I was ready, I was fucking ready to die, and yet I couldn’t even do that right!” Harry’s voice had reached a crescendo, but he hadn’t noticed. The power swirling around him became stronger, pulsing like a bloody heart ripped from a chest, and he didn’t even notice the man that rushed onto the street. “I’m not even supposed to be alive right now! I died!  _ I am dead _ , and if I can’t help someone then what the fuck good am I?” 

“Mon belle!” Jean-Claude cried out. “Do not separate yourself from me!” He ordered sharply. 

As the magic buzzed and pulsed some more, Harry clenched his eyes shut. “Can’t take this.  _ I do not understand _ . I am nothing. I have always been nothing, and I always will be nothing,” he chanted for a second time. “So stop thinking I am something!” And as he said this, the power swelling around him became blinding to anything in its path. 

And then it exploded causing grunts as the two figures lowered themselves, the trees and the lit lamposts not only bent until they snapped, but all the lights in the area turned out like a meteor shower crashing into the ground, and likely the power of anything within miles had been destroyed. 

But just like the wind, it was gone and the swirling protection dissolved. Harry stood there still as death staring at the asphalt of the rutted road. He could see shadows clinging as they moved. 

“What did you do to the Little Raven?” asked a voice that Harry knew was Edward. 

“I refused to let him walk to a death, _ tueur d'ombre _ .” 

“Did you just call me a killer?” Edward challenged. 

“Oui. Is that an issue?” 

Edward’s lip twitched. “Nah, just double checking. My French is pretty rusty these days. I don’t get out of the country much.” 

“Mah, I have not been able to see my mother country in a very long time. Harry?” 

“Don’t…” Edward stretched out his arm to block Jean-Claude from moving. 

“But, I must… he is in need of me,” said Jean-Claude. “Look at him!” 

“Yes, I see it, but the Little Raven is not a witch, pretty boy.” 

“Jean-Claude, please use it.” 

Edward ignored the request. “He is a full blooded wizard with powers that I can’t even imagine. He can be overwhelmed when things become too much. I have only seen it once, and the last person who touched him almost died.”

“Who touched him?”

“Me.” 

Jean-Claude looked over at the stunned still belle still staring at the ground of shadows as though it were calling to him, whispering in his ear. “Then I will not touch him, but I will go to him. So do not bar my path, tueur d'ombre.” 

Edward snorted. “Your funeral, and if you get a nickname I get one to.”

“Perhaps, but choose a much more fitting moniker and I may or may not agree to your unsolicited request.” 

As the power beneath Harry’s skin began to settle to a simmer, he was aware of the two distinctive scents as the shadows moved in closer. He raised his head, and locked eyes with a deep blue before shifting the icy gaze of the next. 

“Overload Little Raven?” 

“Something like that,” said Harry rotating his jaw. It felt like rubber, and his and Edward’s voice seemed distant. 

“May I come closer, mon belle?” 

Harry hesitantly nodded before he could think more about it, and Jean-Claude was right there in a blink. “Can you fly?” 

“ _ Oui. _ ” 

“I like flying.” And when Harry moved, something like a whistling current shot into the air. He barely registered the shouts of the two men as something sharp dived into his neck passing through skin, and burning hot. 

Harry’s hand instinctively shot to his neck, and he looked at Jean-Claude and Edward who had closed the distance. “Oh…” His eyes rolled as the sanctuary of darkness bled over him, and then he collapsed. 


	8. Chapter 7

“Mon Belle!” Jean-Claude cried, and Edward was already rushing from his side, gun outstretched. 

“Did you hear the direction?” 

“That way!” Jean-Claude snapped with a point in the direction. Edward darted between the trees where the shot came from, and Jean-Claude lowered the light-weight figure gently to the asphalt. “Mon belle!” He could smell the poison as he pulled the dart from where it was embedded into his neck. “Non, no! I can’t let this be,” he hissed rolling over the first person to ever see him for who he was, and not see the allure of the ardeur. The one human on the face of the earth who was unaffected by his powers, the one who did not see lust, but instead saw Jean-Claude. A man behind a mask crafted centuries ago, and not even his maker could see beyond what lay beneath. 

He felt as if his heart was beating again, having started fluttering when learning that Harry could not be mesmerized or rolled. He was the one person who admittedly made Jean-Claude feel as close to human as he could become while still a creature of the night. 

Just his presence imbued Jean-Claude with a power that was almost omnipotent. A power that was not magic rather than a gift he had long desired, but was unable to claim. 

_ Lust. Lust. Lust _ was his life. It always was and always would be. He had known this, and embraced it. He enjoyed it, and reveled in it. It was who he was, and fighting such a powerful logic and power was a fruitless endeavor. 

And then Harry Potter-Black walked through his office. He had feared for the community, feared that the holder of the deeds and property would rip them from the hands that shifted and shaped and crafted a life for his people, and all the while fighting the bleeding of a society who did not accept them unless they were for entertainment only. That was fine by Jean-Claude. He could do entertainment, and he could own it. He could take entertainment from the human population, and swallow it whole, and then return it improved. But then, Harry Potter-Black really saw him. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t arch a brow. 

Merde, he didn’t even know that Jean-Claude had tried to enthrall him. He had been oblivious even as he stated he really didn’t know anything about business. Such a foolish mistake, Jean-Claude could have seized that opportunity. He could have latched on and sucked it away to protect his people. When Harry met his eyes, more emerald green than the Emerald Isles, and the warmth that spilled was unrivaled. Jean-Claude felt his soul in that instant. He felt the warmth seeping, the goodness that lay beneath a small human creature, and a relationship of business and friendship bloomed. 

He was a catch. A catch that Jean-Claude was determined to ensnare like a rare butterfly encased for life. Harry had been the catch of the century. Years of flirtation, and camaraderie had not changed anything, and yet Jean-Claude always hit a wall. Harry never noticed, and when he did, he would flick it away as though it were a stray hair not worth noticing. 

Jean-Claude had been reasonably annoyed, maybe even a touch irritated, and could have turned into full blown ire had Harry not laughed so richly at him. Not smiled in such an enchanting way. 

No one ever smiled at him with such purity. It did not exist in his world. But, Harry existed, and Jean-Claude found himself taking a tumble. Now here he was - Harry within his grasp, and he was dying! 

Non! He could not allow it. As the seconds ticked by, clocked by the sounds of the cicadas constantly singing. Jean-Claude cupped Harry’s porcelain cheeks, running his thumbs along butterfly pink lips that never falsely smiled at him. He would not allow it. “Forgive me, mon belle, I am too selfish to allow you to seep into the darkness of endless sleep.” If only he was awake, Jean-Claude clasped his own mouth to the soft salt of Harry’s lips, and focused on the life energy that swirled deep within him, and slowly his aura and force began to enter his belle, and he poured as much as he dared allowing it to swirl and pass Harry’s throat, grasping hold of his heart. 

A pressure built in his head and heart, his ears pounded with the bloody knowledge of shared force. He knew of nothing except for the force sweeping, wrapping, and then tying around a soul too pure. He would taint the purity if he must. He would have the purity at all costs. 

Harry was  _ his _ . 

He could hear and feel the rush of Harry’s blood, the sudden failing of the heart from poison began to thud and thump softly through the cavity of Harry’s chest, and then the ragged breathing became less shallow and more pronounced. 

Jean-Claude’s eyes fluttered as the loss of energy swept over him, and when he released Harry he knew it was worth it when he saw the hint of rose spreading healthily across his high cheekbones. Jean-Claude ran a thumb gently across Harry’s cheek when there was a grunt, and then a thump, and he finally raised his head to see Edward standing there, the clear visage of pure death beneath the pale moonlight, and beside him was the head of Valentine. 

“Not often do I feel I am responsible,” he said kicking the head with a sneer. He was covered from head to toe in bruises and blood. A gleaming silver machete dripped with the crimson liquid. “He’s  _ supposed _ to be dead.” He wiped the machete onto his pants causing the metal to make a faint sound. 

“He is the shooter?” 

“Mmm.” Edward had something strapped to his back, and removed it. He dropped it down, and Jean-Claude could smell the blood and poison lingering on it. 

It was the exact same. 

“I do not botch jobs. I torched this fucker!” 

“He belongs to the Master of the City. Phillip may recover yet,” Jean-Claude responded. It was all he could do was state a fact. Rarely did he ever have a healthy amount of fear for humans, but this one man was definitely worth the respect.

“Idealist, both of you,” Edward snorted. “What did you do?” He crouched down, and Jean-Claude was instantly on alert. “Ya marked him didn’t you?” 

“I had to.” Edward looked at Harry, and then gently tilted his neck to check the wound. “Death will not grasp him this night.” 

“So poetic,” Edward drawled. “Give me a reason not to kill you.” 

“We may both not see this night end, Harry would not be pleased, you may not get paid if you do.” 

Edward smirked. “Hah! I knew it!” he said smacking his knee triumphantly. 

“If you knew then why threaten?” 

“Fun, and I’m pretty convinced that if the Little Raven didn’t want your mark he could somehow reject it. Little shit always does impossible things,” he said flicking the younger man’s ear causing him to flinch. 

“Must you torment him?” 

“Always. He learns best that way.” 

“Where is Phillip?” 

“Still sitting like a good-boy in the car he was assigned to,” said Edward offhandedly. “Loyal puppy that one is. He could be useful or dead, my theory is he’s going to be dead. He has little will of his own. Those who have no will, do not survive.” 

“You should not be presumptuous, tueur d'ombre. Some have been known to reward surprise.” 

“Only this one has ever surprised me. So, you going to give me her place of rest during the day or do I have to keep digging? And by me, I mean he will be involved or is this what you had planned? To endanger his life so that you can ‘save’ him?” 

Jean-Claude’s nostrils flared as his hackles raised. “I would do no such dishonor. He was about to interfere with half a dozen vampires over a century old, one human servant, and an Animator. I knew he would not leave well enough alone even by my request, and I learned of a plot to take care of him before he could become trouble.” 

“So, this whole shin-dig into fucksville was to draw him out?” 

“If he was as powerful as Nikolaos suspected he would feel the pulse of energy, and become attracted and curious.” 

“Curious is his middle name,” Edward drawled. “Perhaps we should move this elsewhere? I don’t think the middle of the road across from a fuckhouse is a safe place.” 

“You may be right, and your crude language really is - most offensive,” said Jean-Claude lifting Harry bridal style in his arms as though he were a bag of flour. Harry’s head lolled against his chest, and a soft moan emitted from his pink lips. It was too bad, he hadn’t been awake so that Jean-Claude could taste him properly. 

“Why thank you. I try so hard to impress my clients after all.” 

“Do keep that under your tongue. I did not tell you this information so that I become a target.” 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, ol’ Edward knows what he’s doing. Besides, it’s better fuckhouse than  _ freak _ party. It is recommended you do not use that word in front of Little Raven. He doesn’t like it much.” 

“What pray tell is your relationship to him?” 

Edward grinned humorlessly. “For me to know and you to find out.” 

“I will by asking him.” He admitted to liking games, but also admitted that games with this man made him a bit nervous. If he couldn’t control the playing field or where the pieces were going, he wanted to get off the board swiftly. 

It was not cowardly, it was smart, and Jean-Claude did not get to where he was by being an unintelligent and misinformed vampire believing the world was beneath him, and all humans were simply snacks on legs. He might hold some contentions, but he did have a modicum of respect tinged with a touch of envy. 

“Be my guest.” 

Both of them snapped their attention toward the lane when they heard loud thundering footsteps. Edward not only raised the machete, but he dropped the head of Valentine, and reached for his gun. His finger was already squeezing the trigger when Jean-Claude called out. 

“Non! It’s Phillip!” 

“You have to get out of here now!” said Phillip panting, and wiping a smattering of blood from his cheek. “The HAV are here!” 

“Merde…” Jean-Claude cursed, and Edward’s eyes narrowed. 

“How did you know where we were?” asked Edward. “Were you followed?” 

“I don’t think so, and I knew because I felt him,” said Phillip looking at the still form of Harry in Jean-Claude’s arms. “Is he okay? He’s been casting magic on me all night. I didn’t realize it then, but when I felt the pulse, I knew it was him. He knocked out the electricity grid, everyone is wigging out including the vampires in attendance - and then they came. It’s mad in there.” 

Edward quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like I’m missing the real party. Damn you and my mistake!” he turned his growl down to the head that was face up, and Phillip only noticed it, jumped back with a yelp. 

“He cannot bother you again, Phillip,” said Jean-Claude softly. 

“That’s for sure,” said Edward spearing the head through the mouth with the sword and raising it like a piece of meat. “Closure, kid.” 

Phillip looked ill as he went sheet white. “Is he the one who-?” He swallowed and looked again at Harry. 

“He has been treated, and will be fine,” Jean-Claude assured. 

“Give me the keys,” Edward prompted holding out his hand. “I’ll check the perimeter and get his car. You stay with him,” he ordered Jean-Claude who did not object to the command. As much as Jean-Claude trusted in Phillip, he did not trust that the young broken man could defend himself and a catatonic Harry at the same time, and survive. 

As Edward disappeared toward the lane, Jean-Claude lead the way behind a cusp of trees along the edge. Phillip was quietly moving, still ghost white and swallowing. “You are not well, mon garcon. You should take a breath. He will not hurt you.” 

Phillip clenched his eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose, and then he snapped his eyes open. “Wait - he was at the party… he - Harry knew him?” 

“Do be careful with the knowledge you may or may not have gained, mon garcon. It can get a lot of people hurt or worse, killed.” 

“...” Phillip stared at the man in Jean-Claude’s arms again. “I would never betray Harry,” he said with a tone severity. 

“Good,” said Jean-Claude smirking. “Then you shall not betray me. How was he in there? He was safe, oui?” 

“He had them wrapped around his finger,” Phillip said taking a deep breath. “He used some sort of magic to keep them off me so it was easier. Whenever they got close they would get distracted.” He then looked away. “Valentine is dead?” He had obviously seen the body and the head disconnected, saw the brutality in which Edward afforded it, and yet he was still trying to connect the fact that his first nightmare was gone in a wisp. Jean-Claude didn’t bother to repeat himself or answer a question that didn’t need an answer. 

A sound of a gunshot in the distance caused Phillip to flinch, and Jean-Claude to hum when Harry who had been lolled against him began to shiver, and his long black lashes fluttered, and emeralds began to sparkle, thanks to the shining light of the moon. 

“Mon belle? Are you awake?” 

“...” Harry felt as though the world had frozen and tilted, the smell of something familiar was attached to him. His skin buzzed, and his eyes stung as he stared up blearily at the beautiful face of Jean-Claude. 

“Harry!” 

“Phillip?” Harry tried to tilt his head, but it hurt, and he grimaced as his muscles seemed to bunch together and then stretch like a wound. “Why are you out of the car?” 

“Do not concern yourself, mon belle. Your beau is coming with the car. HAV have raided the party,” Jean-Claude told him, trying to ignore the sear of jealousy when Harry recognized Phillip over him. He knew it was impractical, but it still stung. He clutched Harry a little tighter. 

“What happened? Why am I…” Harry stopped when he rewound what had happened. Something had hit him. Something hot and searing. “I was poisoned.” 

“Correct.” 

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m so sorry. I flipped out over nothing only to become a target. Shit, Edward’s going to kill me.” 

“Non, he will not kill you. I promise, mon belle.” 

Harry snorted. “You don’t know Edward,” he said dryly, and then shifted. “Erm.. can I get down?” 

“Do you have to?”

“If HAV is attacking…” 

“Edward has gone to deal with it, and retrieve your car.” 

“Alone?” 

“Do not test me, mon belle. You almost died. Do not run off in haste,” said Jean-Claude sharply. “ _ Please _ ,” he added more softly. 

Harry wanted to fight it, but even through the irritated blur of his contacts, he could see a shade of pleading lingering on Jean-Claude’s perfect face. “Okay, I won’t. But, can you at least put me right side up?” 

Jean-Claude smirked. “But, you are so dashing in this position. Like a bride.” 

Phillip snickered leaving Harry to grumble. “Hush you!” 

“Sorry!” he didn’t sound it, and finally Jean-Claude gave in, and the world tilted as his feet touched the ground. 

He swayed, pressing into the white froth of man’s muscled chest. His middle finger naturally grazed across the burn cross causing Jean-Claude’s eyes to darken. “Do be good for the night,” he murmured softly and brushed a kiss across Harry’s forehead. 

Harry’s lashes fluttered, and the warmth that seeped into the pit of his stomach soothed him as he pressed his cheek to Jean-Claude’s chest. “I promise.” Even if he didn’t understand. He was too tired to fight anyway. 

He was guided into the back of his own car when Edward stopped on the edge of the road. Phillip took the passenger seat. 

“What’s the situation?” asked Jean-Claude. 

“As you would expect. You awake there, Little Raven?” 

“Nearly.” Jean-Claude’s arm was locked around him, and his cheek was still pressed to the man’s chiseled chest. He should be embarrassed by this, he should be pushing away, but he didn’t have the energy, and an even bigger part of him didn’t want to. His head was thumping, the wound in his neck was still stinging, and Merlin forbid if he needed a bit of comfort after all that. 

He hadn’t meant to go off the deep end. His mind had gone sideways, and when he didn’t understand something, the frustration would slowly build along with his magic. He had always been the type to run completely on emotions. It was how his magic worked. He wasn’t like Professor Snape, where he could bottle his emotions and become a wall of nothing. His mind and body wouldn’t allow that; and so instead he channeled his emotions into a power. It was how he learned to beat the darkness after all. It was the only way to sometimes let it go. 

He listened, but didn’t connect the murmurs in the car of the men, and for once, fully trusted Edward to take them to safety. 

It was coming up on one o’ clock, and so Jean-Claude had a good few hours. He shivered a bit when the man’s palm caressed his cheek. Harry focused on the smoothness, the hum of his car, and sometimes a street light that flashed by. 

His eyes were watering by now, everything around him was blurred, and he knew it was his contacts. He sighed, and managed to untangle himself from Jean-Claude’s side and leaned over the man to drape across the front seat between Edward and Phillip. “Phillip get my pouch in the console, please. My eyes are about to pop out. I can’t see a damn thing.” 

Phillip pulled the familiar moleskin pouch from Harry’s glove box, and he took it and settled back. “How are you feeling?” 

“I could be worse.” He did not want to talk about what he had said and done to Phillip. Edward and Jean-Claude knew. It was why they weren’t on him hot and heavy to explain himself. He wasn’t sure if he could, even if he was ordered to. He fished around for the contact case and the small bottle of solution. 

“Shall I hold it?” 

“Hold this.” Harry snapped his fingers and a silver small mirror materialized in front of them. He could see Jean-Claude’s gorgeous reflection. It was a myth that vampires couldn’t look at themselves. If they couldn’t how the hell would they know they looked so beautiful? 

“You should wash your hands.” 

Harry grumbled. “I’m not putting them back in tonight or ever. At least these ones.” 

“You might not need them,” said Jean-Claude with a smirk. 

Harry looked at him. “What does that mean?” 

Jean-Claude a carded perfect fingers through his messy hair, but he said nothing. Harry really had a hard time understanding Jean-Claude sometimes as he turned back to the mirror and quickly plucked out the soft lens. 

He blinked a few times, and made to pull out his glasses when he realized that once the haze receded that he could  _ see _ . “Huh?” He whipped his head around to Jean-Claude to see him smiling slyly. “What did you do?” 

“Whatever do you mean, mon belle?” 

“Why can I see?” 

“Why do you suspect it was I who had anything to do with your sight?” Finger brushed beneath his eye along his cheekbone tenderly. Jean-Claude was the picture perfect back-seat passenger. Not a single hair out of place, the frothy lace lay in the perfect position. 

Gah, this man was irritating! Edward let out a laugh as if he could read Harry’s mind. He didn’t doubt it. “Out with it, what did you do?” 

“You were dying mon belle, I had to do something,” said Jean-Claude touching his chin with a single finger. “I could not allow you to sink.” 

Harry remembered ranting about how he should already be dead, and while it was true. He wasn’t sure if he really believed his own words. Many people say things they don’t mean when in the heat of the moment. “So, what, do vampires have a magical healing ability or something? Why can I see?” 

“I gave you life.” 

“He marked you,” Edward interjected flatly. “You know, one of four marks, and the fourth turns you into a human servant.” He grinned as he looked over his shoulder at Harry who stared at him owlishly. “You sure know how to pick them, Little Raven. At least he’s pretty.” 

“You could have allowed me to do the talking and ease him into it better,” said Jean-Claude in disapproval. 

“I’m not one for easing in, and neither is the Little Raven. It’s often why he’s an exception to a lot of shit that I don’t generally take.” 

“Not to mention the good breakfasts I make you and the coffee you can barely survive without when in town.” 

“That too.” 

Harry settled back against the seat, and looked over at Jean-Claude whose eyes were staring straight ahead. He had no expression. He wasn’t even moving. 

Jean-Claude marked him? Harry fully admitted that he was not an expert. Not like Edward, but he knew enough about human servants to know what that entailed should he complete the marking. Harry would become Jean-Claude’s and their life-force and willpower would be tied together for life. A vampire could only ever have one human servant, and Harry was surprised that after all these centuries, Jean-Claude never claimed anybody. Surely, he had thousands of takers. Men and women of all kinds probably threw themselves at his feet. 

So, why would he even bother to potentially tie himself to Harry? It made no sense. Harry was tired of not understanding, but also too tired to argue or fight what has already happened. A decision was made, and he was alive. Whether that was a good thing or not had yet to make itself known. He hoped it wouldn’t for a few days at least. He needed a break from confusion.

A vampire and human servant could never betray one another. It was physically and mentally impossible. It was a shared power of sorts, and the flaws were that if one died so did the other. It was rare that the mate survived, and the ones who did was typically the vampire. He didn’t know much else, and he supposed he would find out. 

Apart of Harry knew he should be furious, the very idea of being a slave in captivity was irksome, but Harry also recognized that Jean-Claude did his best, and he wouldn’t trample over that even if he whined or exploded later. He also knew that Jean-Claude, no matter how wily and seductive, would never choose to steal free will as that would not be fun to him. He liked the challenge. He liked the byplay. He liked the chase. No, he wouldn’t have chosen to mark Harry unless there was another way. Harry had been dying. 

Harry shifted in his seat, and pressed closer to Jean-Claude who turned his head fractionally. Once again, his face reading nothing, but his dark blue eyes held everything. Instead of addressing the whole thing in front of Edward and Phillip, he smirked and pinched at Jean-Claude’s nose. “You need to fidget or something.” 

Jean-Claude’s lip twitched. “Is that so, mon belle?” 

“Hn, you’re like a wall!” He rocked back and forth nudging his shoulder into Jean-Claude. It was his way of letting Jean-Claude know that he was okay with it. 

_ For now _ . 

Jean-Claude sensed his thoughts, and he smiled. “You truly are a mon belle.” 

“Where did the catch part go?” 

Jean-Claude never answered, turned his eyes back to the front. Harry pinched him, Jean-Claude smiled, but still said nothing. Harry huffed. 

“Looks like the Little Raven is back to his old self again.” 

“And you’ve never changed,” Harry slunk down in his seat, knees pressed together, and his hands awkwardly running up and down the rips in his jeans. 

“Why change perfection?” 

Harry snorted. “Call yourself Remus again, and your perfection is going to go out the window.” 

“Least I didn’t use Teddy.” 

“I’d never forgive you.” 

“...” Edward smirked. “I know, that’s what makes it so amusing.” Harry didn’t understand the joke, but he suspected that he wasn’t supposed to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to our American Readers!


	9. Chapter Eight

#  Chapter Eight

Jean-Claude and Phillip were dropped at Guilty Pleasures, and Harry slithered from the back without getting out, tumbling into the seat right next to Edward who smirked. 

“Smooth ride,” he comment doing a swift U turn with one hand. 

“What about yours?” 

“She drove,” he grunted. 

“You parked your truck and willingly got in the car with her?” 

Edward sniffed as he glared straight ahead. “Not like I had a choice, Little Raven. Sources are tricky that way.” 

“Not for you.” 

“Normally. You better get your boy toy to squeal the location.” 

Harry thought about it. “He will, when Phillip isn’t around. He doesn’t need to be involved. She’d tear him to bits. If not I’ll find out. I think everyone at that party were nothing more feed bags.” 

Edward smirked. “I must say I was impressed with your diplomacy back there. You kept your cool, mostly.” 

“It’s not my fault Crystal didn’t know how to swallow,” Harry drawled causing the man to bark and smack the steering wheel. 

“If you weren’t a little virgin, I’d take that another way.” 

Harry huffed and crossed his arms. “How did you know I was?” 

“Hah, how do I not? You about exploded all over that laundry room.” 

“Shut up!” Harry grumbled looking out the window at the bridge they were crossing. He could just make out the sparkling river below. It looked like a bunch of diamonds thanks to the moonlight. “I’m hungry.” 

“Feast Party, exploding magic, marking toys, and other shit? I think you would be. So, what the hell happened back there? I got in on the tail end of it. What made you explode?” 

Harry grimaced. “Everything and nothing. Jean-Claude was being Jean-Claude, and I was panicking and thinking about how that animator in the graveyard might very well be who I am looking for, and he won’t let me do my job!” 

“I don’t want to pick sides…” 

“Yes you do.” 

“Okay, I do, but he was right. He said there were at least six in that graveyard? Harry James Potter, you know better than that,” Edward snapped making Harry wince. “I taught you better!” 

“I know! But, I was running on adrenaline. You know how that is. I was pissed off thanks to that nasty arse slag Crystal trying to rape a kid who I know was underage! Phillip was about to pass out considering his addiction and I had to go and drag him into that place! Then let’s top it off with healthy usual dose of confusion that Jean-Claude often supplies, and I lost it. Everything built up around me, and  _ boom _ !” He made a motion with his hands as he made a pop sound with his mouth. He breathed quietly. “I know I should have went in and gotten you. But you were deep cover, Phillip didn’t know about you, and I wasn’t about to break it. He told me it was a lure anyway. I thought I had got on Nikolaos’ good side.”

“You never know these things, Little Raven. You should never make assumptions. Did you get a good look at the animator?” 

“Yes and no. I think I’ve seen him before, but I’d have to get closer. By then my eyes were burning and it was dark. But, he couldn’t do it. I know it was something old because they had a goat, and the woman was furious. Nikolaos’ human servant was there,” he then pointed out. 

“I see... he could be her weak spot.” 

“Or her strong spot.” 

“Doubtful, but who knows? First time for everything, and maybe I’m wrong.” 

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Merlin, between you, Draco, and Jean-Claude, the humility is astounding. Pull into Taco Bell,” he said waving his hand at the side shops. 

“You hate this place.” 

“It’s all that’s open. By the way who tried to kill me?” 

“Valentine.” 

Harry blinked. “Phillip’s tormentor?” 

“Mhmm…” 

“Wait - he’s alive? I thought we killed them, that last hit! You used a flamethrower!” 

“Me too. Who knew a flamethrower isn’t foolproof?” Edward grunted as they pulled around the drive-thru in front of an old white car. 

“I guess we do now.” Harry told him what he wanted, and Edward got himself something as well. They ate in the car as they drove toward Harry’s house. Edward was good at eating and driving. Harry could only do that if he had magic on his side. 

“Spill anything and Draco will kill you.” Harry warned.

Edward snorted. “I’d like to see the boy try. I’d give him a free chance.” 

“Only because it would be fun.” 

“Maybe. You okay with the mark?” 

Harry shrugged, keeping his attention on picking out the diced tomatoes. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see when the next explosion comes. I can’t hate Jean-Claude for what he did. Am I annoyed? A bit, but I do know him enough to know he likes to win fairly. He doesn’t like cutting corners.” 

“Maybe that’s why he amused me long enough to not want to rip off his head.” 

“Just don’t get it.” 

“What don’t you get?” 

“...” Harry shook his head, not wanting to elaborate as he pulled on some of the flour tortilla. Taco Bell wasn’t his favorite, but he liked the tomatoes and flour tortilla. He wasn’t entirely sure if the meat was actually meat. “If he puts me in leather and a thong again, I’m really going to turn his hair blue.” 

Edward snorted. “I don’t think it was too bad. I’ll give him points for having taste.” He sucked down the Pepsi until it was near empty. 

Harry was trying not to remember Edward yanking on it, and causing strange things to happen to his body. “If he does, will you yank them again?” 

“Maybe, if I’m in the position to do so.” He never looked at Harry, keeping his eyes on the road. Ice cold blue that glinted in streetlights that passed. 

Harry shivered unconsciously and tilted his head to bite into the taco. “Yuck, the meat is gross.” 

“You should have gotten chicken.” 

“Or cheese only with tomatoes of course.” 

“You owe me breakfast.” 

“Biscuits and Gravy?”

“You’re good at pleasing men. I think you’ll be just fine with your new toy.” Edward finally looked at him, and Harry choked on the meat and lettuce. 

“Bastard!” 

Edward would forever be  _ the _ bastard of all bastards. Harry had completely left out Edward’s involvement in his episode. He was not going there, and was not about to make anything awkward between them. It was only a cover. Just that. Nothing more and nothing less. Harry could laugh about it, and let Edward have his fun. He never needed to know that he was part of Harry’s problem. 

Why was he attracted to dangerous men? Why couldn’t he be attracted to the nice guy next door? If he had a guy next door, because all he had was a bunch of trees and an old cowboy cemetery. 

Edward took his usual room two doors down and across from Harry when they got home. Harry mentioned Draco’s printer, and Edward merely nodded without saying anything. Both disappeared, and it wasn’t until almost six in the morning and he was face down in bed when the phone once again shrilled. Twice in two nights, it was a record. Harry groaned as he rolled over to grab the cordless. 

“Lo’?” 

“It’s Storr. We got another one.” 

Harry sat up and was already stripping the covers. “Vampire?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Where?” 

“Circus of the Damned.” 

Harry froze at this. Circus of the Damned was right inside the District. In fact, it wasn’t too far from Guilty Pleasures, and after making that connection his heart took a stab, and he grimaced as he rubbed his chest. “S-same as last time?” Merlin, he hoped it wasn’t someone he knew. More particularly, someone he actually cared about. He refused to let his mind conjure up images of Jean-Claude in anything less than a beautiful fashion.  _ No! _

“Yup.” 

“I’ll be there.” Usually, Dolph was the one who hung up first, but Harry was already out of bed and throwing some clothes from the floor on. He stumbled to the bathroom, and used the quick hobo method of washing his mouth. He didn’t bother to look at himself in the mirror as he shoved his trainers onto his feet, and rushed out the door. 

He then groaned and turned back, conjuring a quick note promising breakfast when he returned. He stuck it by the coffee pot knowing that was Edward’s go to place first thing in the morning. He made to leave again only to stop and sighed some more. 

Edward was really not going to be happy with him and the late breakfast. He placed the keys on the table, and quickly moved to at least prepare the coffee. It was the least he could do, and Edward might not take a bite out of his arse. 

So much for rushing. He would apparate straight to Dolph if he knew the man’s heart could withstand it. 

The location had brought a lot of the media out. Any vampire death was cause for sensationalism. Harry thought it was rude. It reminded him of Rita Skeeter, and her nasty quill. Harry used a little magic to slip by unnoticed, and he thought the blonde reporter was rather ballsy to be trying to shove a spongy microphone into his boss’ face. 

He came out on the other side, his eyes drawn to the gruesome sight at the feet of Detective Clive Perry. A tall black man who seemed too kind and gentle for a job like this. Harry liked him. He was always professional and always courteous. He was the first one who hadn’t judged him based on height and youthful looks. 

“Detective Perry?” Clive Perry flinched, and Harry realized he still had some magic lingering to keep the looky-loos away. “Sorry!” He dropped the thread, and Clive breathed. 

“Harry. I heard Storr called you in. It’s a nasty one.” 

“I can see that,” said Harry scanning his eyes across the blood soaked ground. It was old, deep dark brown with a sticky quality. It was also a woman from the looks of her bone structure and suit. She had no head, and her heart had been scooped out much like the others. She was wearing high black stiletto heels. He crouched trying not to get his knees into the puddle at his feet as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He checked around, lifting a bit of the rib causing Clive to make a noise. 

“You really have to paw at her?” 

“Sorry, but I’m looking for anything that can tell me how she died.” 

“Well, far be it from me to jump to conclusions, but she has no head and her heart has been scooped out.” 

Harry laughed. “Yeah, obvious things here, but even without a head, I can tell she might have been a strong enough vampire. You don’t just tear one apart with your bare hands. Even a newbie vampire can boast a surprising amount of strength.” 

“True, I’m sure the coroner can tell us.” 

“Head?” 

“Over here. We haven’t touched it.” 

Harry stood, grimacing at how the bottom of his black slacks had sunk into the blood. Oh well, at least it was black. He stepped carefully around the body following Clive. Beneath a cluster of wispy maples where the shade was more abundant, Harry saw a curtain of black that tingled the back of his neck in acknowledgment, and when Clive rolled it over, his eyes widened. 

It was the woman from last night. He crouched again, dropping his head so the man couldn’t see his expression. He placed the back of his wrist to his mouth and stared at the look of horror in her lifeless eyes. 

True, it had been night, but there is no way he could be wrong. She was one of Nikolaos’ vampires. Why would she kill one of her own? No, he didn’t think she would, and there were many ways for a vampire to kill another without resorting to such a human method. Especially one as strong as her. 

No, Harry had a theory that whatever ruse that Jean-Claude had been on about didn’t go the way they planned. Something happened when Harry had been taken from the graveyard. Did that animator do something? How? He had six others around him, what could he have possibly done to take them all out when even he and Edward might struggle? It made no sense!

Unless he wasn’t human, Harry thought.

How could a non-human summon anything? He had way too many questions. 

“Well?” prompted Clive. “You’re usually a lot more chatty.” 

“I’d like to know that as well,” said Dolph appearing on Harry’s other side. 

“Same person obviously,” he said carefully as he rose. He screwed his face so that his expression read nothing as he looked Dolph in the eyes. 

Perfect distraction because the large Slytherin Beater looking man blinked at him and leaned closer. “You have contacts today?” 

“Erm… something like that. You wanted me to hurry, and I fell asleep with them in,” said Harry averting his eyes. “I was at a party last night.” 

“Must have been some party,” said Clive. 

Harry grinned. “You have no idea.” 

“I didn’t take you for a party animal, Potter.” 

Harry turned to see Zebrowski smirking. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Zebrowski. It’s always fun to keep you guessing.” Harry plucked off the gloves. “Everything is the same, but this is more brutal. It’s personal. I’m guessing she got close enough and maybe knew who he or she or whatever we are dealing with was.” He had to give them something. 

“How do you figure?” asked Dolph. 

“Shock. Look at her face.” 

Zebrowski made a noise. “Better him than me.” 

Dolph stepped closer, and knelt down by the head, and used a gloved hand to roll it into position. “Hm, not bad Potter.” 

“I’m guessing the community tried to deal with it themselves.” 

“Some are saying HAV, there was a raid last night on a house across the way,” said Clive checking his notes. 

Harry knew all about that, but shrugged. “Could be something. I’d offer to help you, but I’m not liked by the HAV. To them I’m barely human enough to be walking on two feet.” He had his own idea of what was going on. He needed to do some step retracing while it was light out, and he had no seductive vampire to kidnap him for his own safety. 

Zebrowski laughed. “Not even with your cute and young looks?” 

“Especially with my looks.” A lot of HAV were actually squibs who hated anything magical or supernatural or whatever they were calling it these days. His name might not carry too much weight in America, except for a nod of respect in certain regards, but a lot of squibs here came here from Europe. 

Americans were much more tolerant of magic-less than Europe, who saw it as a stain and dishonor, and often threw their children out the door with barely anything. 

He was actually surprised to know that the Blacks had set up property in America at all. But then, it did make sense if their relatives came marching back begging to be let in, it wouldn’t look good. It was always best to throw a little money and maybe a house or two, and that disinherited squib wouldn’t bother returning. 

He was soon dismissed, but he was far from done. He tossed the gloves into the trash only to blink when a funny smell that wasn’t a part of the crime scene drifted by with the hot July breeze. 

It smelled like rotten apples, and dead corpses didn’t smell like that. He figured it was someone’s cologne or perfume. Several people were craning their necks trying to see beyond the wall of uniforms and yellow tape. He was glad they were distracted as he slid into the car, and settled back with a sigh. 

He had to retrace his steps from last night, and that meant going back to that house. Not something he was looking forward to. He was already backing out, and mentally followed Phillip’s directions. 

He ignored the lingering voice in the back of his mind that warned him not to do anything stupid. “Jean isn’t here right now brain, please take a number and wait until dark.” And Edward? Bah! Edward, Shmedward. He was on official business after all. He’d understand. Right? Probably not, but that wasn’t his problem. Edward wasn’t his keeper after all. Besides, how would he know? “He always knows,” Harry said aloud. “And here I am talking to myself again. I really need to find a new friend. Preferably one that isn’t a git.” 

The house from where Harry had spent most of last night looked dead. Harry was guessing after HAV attacked that the happy homemaker and her husband had made a run for it. He didn’t dare pull in the drive, and instead he parked in the nursing home lot and hoofed it. 

The massively tall trees swayed as Harry quietly weaved his way around them toward the small graveyard. In the light of day the area looked so peaceful, so soft and enjoyable.

Harry wasn’t one of those fanatics who liked graveyards, but he did admit that they afforded a certain kind of peace. He felt at home with the death magic lingering in the air. Sometimes, he could feel the movement of spirits. Not a skill he originally possessed, not until his first raising. He used the tightly knitted hedges that he’d vaulted over last night as a guide, and soon enough he was standing in the clearing of the graveyard. 

He shook his head in disgust when he saw that the dead goat was still lying there, flies were surrounding it, and it wouldn’t be long before a vulture came to claim it as their own. He grimaced as he stepped across and stopped where the earth had been only slightly disturbed. 

Hm. No name on the headstone. That wasn’t unusual. It looked like a family graveyard. 

He bent down and pressed a hand flat, closing his eyes. He could feel the swaying of the trees, the soft hum of the magic from beneath the earth. It was old, the death magic was very nearly dried. Why had Nikolaos wanted a raising? What could she possibly do with a zombie? Unless she didn’t care about the zombie, and cared about what it would draw into danger. Namely, him. 

If Jean-Claude hadn’t interfered last night would he truly be dead? He wouldn’t have been on that stretch of road, and Valentine wouldn’t have poisoned him. Instead, he would have had to contend with six maybe more vampires and servants. How did they know he would be there? He closed his eyes and sighed. “Phillip…” he breathed. He couldn’t blame him for letting it slip. 

Harry wouldn’t expect him to keep it secret. He didn’t expect anyone to protect him, and yet men like Edward and Jean-Claude had a habit of getting in his way. He shook his head, and then he froze when the weather turned cool, and the barrel of a gun pressed into his neck. A shadow lingered over him. 

“You are out of your fucking mind, Little Raven,” hissed Edward. “I could have shot you. I could have killed you stone dead. Where the hell are your senses at?” 

Harry didn’t move. “My senses are entrenched in the Death Magic,” he admitted. “Go ahead, Edward, shoot me.” He turned his head so that he could stare at Edward’s cold blue ones. 

“I should. You didn’t make me breakfast.” He clicked the safety back on, and let his arm drop, dangling at his side. 

It wasn’t encouraging like some would think. “I promise to make you an extra big one for days to come whenever you’re in town,” said Harry. “You know I keep promises.” 

“Hm. So, what are you sensing?” asked Edward crouching to mimic him. “What lead you here?” 

“What lead  _ you _ here?” 

“A hunch. You’re worse than me at times.” 

“Your fault,” said Harry. “My reason is the same as yours. The main female vampire that was here last night leading the pack against the animator or whatever he happened to be was found dead outside of Circus of the Damned. Not far, about a block or so. I thought at first, maybe Nikolaos. She’d failed, but I don’t know. I think  _ he _ killed her.” 

“Can you trace a ghoul’s location?” 

“Maybe. If I came in contact with that ghoul I might be able to pick up it’s imprint and follow that back to where it belongs. Not sure; because like I said, the Death Magic either vanishes or it corrupts completely. I am curious as to who was buried here.” 

“You going to raise it? That is a-” Edward paused for a moment, and Harry arched an eyebrow. “Pretty decent idea.” 

Harry laughed. “Wow, that must have been hard for you, Edward.” 

“Excruciating. Tell me you at least brought a gun with you.” 

“I rushed out.” 

“No excuses!” Edward growled standing and towering over him. “You saw last night that your magic isn’t everything.” 

“And neither is a gun considering how far away he was,” Harry pointed out. 

“Not the point. You need to keep a gun on you. At least one, Harry!” Edward snapped causing him to flinch. It wasn’t often when Edward called him by name, but he always meant business when he did. “I’d prefer you have your wand, a knife, and at least a gun with an extra magazine of ammo. At least double.” 

“A gunfight ends before the sixth or seventh round can even fire.”

“And if there is a second not ten minutes later?” 

Harry grumbled and puffed out a breath. “Okay, you win, Edward.” He always won. It was then he caught something white out of the corner of his eye, and it wasn’t the fly ridden goat. He arched his back and reached for it. 

“Mm, another thong, Little Raven?” Edward teased. 

“Not even,” said Harry with a cock of his head, and was almost surprised to see his ice cold eyes lingering with something more. Almost like a fire. A cold brewing fire, but a fire nonetheless. “I’m commando. I rushed out.” 

“I see. Pity, I liked the tugging.” 

“You want that with your biscuits and gravy?” 

“I wouldn’t say no.” 

Harry lifted what he knew was a feather, and twirled it between his fingers. It was white with a little blood. 

“Just a feather.”

“It’s not,” said Harry shifting and plopping his backside down against the stone as he twirled it. “I’ve seen this before. I think I know what I’m dealing with. Merlin, I am so stupid. I do not deserve to be a research clown. He’s using good old voodoo. It’s a Gris-Gris. New Oreleans style,” said Harry, and then his eyes rounded. “I think I know where I’ve seen him…” 

“Oh? Now, I am intrigued.” He crouched again, and Harry looked at him. 

“As a professional courtesy whenever an animator dies, no matter the firm, and if you are in the area you attend. I saw him at his funeral. Exactly one week before the murders began.” 

“He’s dead? How is he here?” 

“Sacrifice. It can get you a lot. Money, all the sex in the world, possession, and even temporary immortality. But as you know, immortality comes at the highest price. Usually a blood sacrifice of sorts. He started with vampires because if human blood touches his Gris-Gris, it’s back to the ground with him.” 

“Stronger the blood the stronger the high.” 

“He was probably coming to these parties to find marks.” 

“Can dead men bleed?” 

“Vampires aren’t dead,” Harry reminded. “But, yes they can. They don’t bleed well, but they can bleed. When he raised he corrupted the entire cemetery around him, probably raised every last corpse into a ghoul.” 

Edward tapped his chin with the barrel of his gun. “What is he?” 

“Most would call him a human ghoul of sorts,” said Harry, and Edward smirked at this. “But, I would call him a lich as he is highly intelligent. Intelligent enough to plan all of this before his death. He must have known he was dying. He might have pissed off a few vampires. Hell, he might have even been one of the - erm…” 

“Snacks,” Edward chose for him. 

“Yeah. He discovered that master vampires were the strongest for his Gris-Gris, but getting close… and striking. I also saw him that night at Guilty Pleasures. He was so forgettable looking what with all the other impressive people around him.” 

“He would need opportunity. Some sort of loose based trust at the very least.” 

Harry’s mind ran in circles, and then a thought came to him as he stared at the goat that started to smell funny. It smelled like rotten apples. But, there were no goats at the crime-scene, and goats don’t smell like that. 

“Little raven.” Edward’s finger touched his nose, and Harry turned to stare him in the eyes before smirking. “What? Did you hit upon something?” 

It was time to pay Edward back for last night. Or at least try, Harry thought rocking onto his knees, and placing his palms onto the ground. His eyes glittered and Edward froze momentarily seeing something he’d never seen in the young wizard. 

“It is too bad that we couldn’t have had more fun last night with everyone,” Harry cooed as he slyly made his way across Edward’s body. 

Instantly, Edward latched hold of him. “What are you-” But Harry boldly pressed their chests together, brushing his mouth along his jaw up to his ear. One hand carding through the back of Edward’s hair, and tugging it. 

“He’s here…” Harry breathed. 

Not missing a beat, Edward reclined back, stretching his legs out so that Harry could climb on top. Harry ran a small hand up and down the taut black t-shirt, circling and playing along the six pack that was outlined by his shirt. 

Edward watched his movements. “You know, Little Raven, your playing is going to see you bent over. Do you really want me to have my way with you on the ground right now next to a carcass?” Edward hissed pushing closer and grabbing him around the waist. “If you keep testing me I just might do it.” 

Their lips were barely an inch apart, and Harry slid toward his ear, and ran a tongue along the lobe. Edward grunted and took a deep rumbling breath. That was no acting. Harry felt a point in his favor. So, his ears were sensitive, hm? “I smelled him at the crime scene,” Harry continued to roll his tongue, and Edward let out a noise, clutching Harry’s hip. 

“You sure it isn’t the goat?” 

“Rotten apples, the scent of decaying flesh hidden by the smell of perfume or cologne.” Harry bit him again causing Edward to grunt, his hips bucked against Harry who could feel him stiffening. 

“You tease,” Edward hissed. “I think you and I should relocate, baby,” He took a good hold on Harry’s slim frame before rocking forward into a perfect standing position. Harry not wanting to drop locked his thighs around the man’s waist, and continued to kiss and lick along his ear and down to his neck. 

Harry wasn’t sure what was going to come next. When it came to Edward all theories went out the window, but he continued his ministrations, enjoying the squeeze and tighter clutch more than he was expecting. The way Edward was moving caused their hips to constantly rub against each other. 

He was either pissed off or enjoying what Harry was doing. Score another point!

Edward marched through the trees as Harry ran his fingers through his hair. He could feel the gel and slickness, and enjoyed making it a perfect mess as he nibbled down and swirled his tongue causing Edward to make a quiet noise. His body seemed to twitch, and then he was pressed against the thick bark of a tree. His hips were gripped and pushed causing him to fall back against the wood. 

“Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?” Harry asked not hiding the deep shallow breathing. 

He was answered not in words but rather the strong weight that pressed against him. Harry shivered as Edward’s hand dragged down his thigh, and he hooked his wrist beneath Harry’s slim leg, spreading him in a position that if Harry had no trousers on he would be entirely exposed. 

He thought Edward was going to play with him some more, tease him to an unrelenting arousal, but he seemed through with teasing because he drew closer to the point Harry saw a spark of icy cold fire in his eyes. Flecks of gray and silver swirling, and his mouth naturally opened as Edward smothered him with a strong hard kiss. 

Harry melted into him, opening his mouth in acceptance, and shuddered when Edward pushed into Harry’s sensitive crotch. An unfiltered moan escaped as he instinctively bit down on Edward’s bottom lip, sucking him as the grip became so tight he thought he would break in half. He moaned again when Edward’s hips began to grind, rotating like his tongue that lolled into his mouth. Harry sucked, humming as he lost all sense of time and place. Everything inside of him burned as the kisses turned more frantic. He was filled with a roaring hunger that was very unlike him. 

He’d never felt such a thing. He’d never thought that such a thing could exist. 

Before in the laundry room was nothing compared to this. Is this what others felt like when they were pushed against another? Breaths so hot they burned, insides scorched and still squirming and tumbling. His erection almost painful. He hadn’t realized that he was now rutting in time with Edward until the man let out quiet and throaty moan that Harry sucked away. 

He was pulling on an instinct that he didn’t know existed. Harry had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it. All he knew was that he didn’t want it to stop. Couldn’t stop. An icy sort of fire spread through his stomach and dived deeper causing a spasm to work its way up his spine. Edward’s muscled chest, strong thighs, and aggressive hips were sending pulses of energy, stronger than magic, and more intangible. 

Others could not be feeling this same sensation, otherwise how would they ever part? He arched as Edward slammed forward, their cocks rubbing and Harry let out a sound cross between a mew and cry. 

Edward’s hand that had been latched onto his hip moved up and gripped his neck hard, making Harry lose a control he didn’t know he possessed. He bit down on Edward’s lip as his nerves tumbled and tightened. One last thrust and Harry lost it. Orgasms wracked his body to point of uncontrolled sobs. He was shaking, his eyes wide, and his breaths harsh. 

“Hngh!” Harry managed to swallow. “Guh! Wh-what-?” 

Edward let out a thick chuckle. “You can cause a man like me to bleed, Little Raven.” Harry hadn’t realized that his nails had dug into the man’s shoulder. He was pulled back by the neck, and Edward’s eyes traced him. 

Harry stilled, realizing what they had done. At least he couldn’t blush anymore than he already was, but Edward was chuckling some more. “You really do have a pretty reaction. I wonder if this is from him or all you. I’d have been a bit pissed if the second flared while I was working  _ my _ magic,” he hissed. 

“What does that mean?” 

“You’ll see. But, I suppose it is all you. You are a virgin, right?” 

“You don’t even need to confirm. You know the answer to that,” said Harry. “It’s gone.” 

“I know.” Harry felt as if he lost the few points with Edward he had managed to gain. Not just from what occurred, but because he got distracted and forgot about the person smelling of rotten apples until it was over. Edward would have kept track the whole time. Damn it! “Now all I smell is you.”

“Shut up!” Harry scowled dropping his legs. 

Edward smirked. “No reason to be bashful now, Little Raven. A little too late for that.” 

Harry waved his hand to clear the mess he’d made. His face still on fire, and his brain was buzzing as though he’d had too much to drink. It was like he was flying high with a soft hum spinning somewhere in the far reaches of his mind or something. Harry couldn’t quite explain it. It was as if something or someone was momentarily inside of him. Something that wasn’t him. 

He didn’t flinch when a finger lifted his chin so that he met cold blank eyes once more. No more fire, had he imagined it for his own pleasure?

“Let’s go. No more wandering around in that mind of yours while we are out in the open.” He then took Harry’s smaller palm and placed a silver familiar weight into it. 

“I have the magnum. It’s in my glove compartment.” 

“Wrong place for it. Back to your place. You owe me breakfast.” 

“Arse!” Harry tried to step away only for Edward to yank him closer. 

“I’m not the one without anything on, Little Raven,” Edward hissed baring his teeth. 

Most would find his look amusing, he wasn’t exactly a troll to look at, and yet Harry found it utterly terrifying.

It was in that moment that Harry realized exactly the kind of man Edward was. 

He was Voldemort without the magic. 


	10. Chapter Nine

#  Chapter Nine

It wasn’t quite nightfall yet, but he had made good on his promise even if it was well after four in the afternoon. Apparently, it was common in America to eat breakfast for dinner. It wasn’t a difficult promise. Harry actually liked cooking when he had someone he wanted to cook for. Edward had gone an hour ago after setting up the printer in the drawing room, and have given Harry a look. He was checking into the HAV and Church of Eternal Life. 

“You go anywhere, take backup. I don’t care who or what it is!” 

Harry promised he would. He would be seeing Jean-Claude that night, and though Edward didn’t trust anyone or anything, he at least trusted that some vampires such as Jean-Claude were smart and possessive enough to know that Edward would come after him should Harry die. Being known as Death in the supernatural community afforded Edward quite a few luxuries. 

Harry’s mind had fallen into a cavity of revolving uncertainty. He started the dishes by hand, not bothering to use magic as it helped him focus mentally, and he had some time to kill. 

So many things at the moment made no sense to him, and where was Draco when he needed sexual advice? He was studying away in his dormitory. Yes, Draco had a dorm, but he rarely used it. He only did so when he was focusing and didn’t want to be disturbed. He had exams coming up. 

Not that Harry ever really disturbed him. It was often the other way around. Draco had this insatiable need that if someone was in the house nearby, he had to be there too. He supposed it came with growing up in a loving family as an only child. Call Draco spoiled, can’t even do dishes without magic, but there was no doubt in his mind about the way Lucius and Narcissa felt about him. Draco was everything. He was more than an heir to Lucius. It made him think that maybe once upon a time his own parents felt that way. 

He wouldn’t ever really know now would he?

As he pulled the drain plug, Harry began to wipe everything down until the deep knotted granite of the counter sparkled. Harry and Draco had gone in together to revamp the entire house, though it was more accurate to say that Draco did most of the choosing. Harry either approved or disapproved of something he truly thought was unfitting. Anything gaudy, Harry would nix. Anything cheap, Draco would refuse, and somehow they came together and married into one cohesive place that both were satisfied with. 

It was a nice place after some tailoring and decontaminating the house; and since it wasn’t the main Black Manor like Grimmauld, it hadn’t been nearly as bad. Green, purple, silver, and black seemed to be most of the theme that carried from room to room with only a little deviation. Harry had chosen the chandelier in the entrance hall as it reminded him of a shooting star in a circular direction, and lit every corner of the room. Draco had been very proud that day to the point that Harry feared he would start crying. Harry’s taste wasn’t that bad.

Okay, it wasn’t that good either. He was very simple. He never grew up wearing anything more than rags, and when he was afforded his own clothes it’d only been black robes for seven years. He hadn’t really had true choices until he was well and truly out of school and on his own. He hadn’t been afforded anything really, and so coming to America had opened up an abundance of free will that Harry hadn’t considered possible. 

And then his mind floated back to the dangerous men on each side of him. First there was Jean-Claude. A beautifully high powered vampire with the intelligence and grace of at least four hundred years, and Harry knew he was older. A few times he’d felt like he was at least six hundred. 

Most vampires stopped growing after they reached a certain level of power or maturity. It all depended on them and the bloodline they hailed from. Not all well-aged vampires became masters. But, Jean-Claude had crafted something that went beyond master and normal. It was like he found a thread that he could pull, and keep learning. He could keep gaining, and while Harry hadn’t seen that power truly exploited, he had begun to feel it on various occasions. 

He also had a rare amount of humanity stowed away inside of him. So much so that it gained him a loyal and well loved following. He was a mainstream vampire, he wanted their community to flourish and survive. He wanted respect, and like any powerful vampire he wanted to power. 

Harry turned his mind to Edward as he left the kitchen. Edward who had no surname. Edward who was a sociopathic man with a penchant for firepower of all types, and heavy American breakfasts. A man who oozed murderous intent without even trying. He was Death in the world of assassination and supernatural. 

If he came for you, it was best to prepare for your death because it was going to happen. He did not deviate once he collected a hit, and no matter how fond he may sound or pretend to be of Harry. He knew that if there was ever a time a hit came for him, Edward might very well take it. Like he said, everyone had a price. 

There wasn’t much else to say about a man like Edward. As he learned, Edward was a magic-less Voldemort. For years, Edward had been nothing more than a mentor of a sorts. He still remembered his first conversation with Edward quite clearly. He had been fishing through the things that Andy had given him. She didn’t want to see it anymore, and didn’t want Teddy to go through it until he was older. She couldn’t handle it. She’d also stuffed all of her daughter’s things away, and then there was her deceased husband. She had it bad, and Harry knew she was getting worse. It was why Teddy wasn’t with him, and instead with her. He couldn’t leave her alone, but he did worry for his godson often. 

He’d found a journal of Remus’ that stated dates and times. Sometimes abbreviations would be scrawled down, and then at the bottom he saw the single name circled twice.  _ ‘Call Edward when in need.’ _

He moved through the first floor tidying, and cleaning. It was a great way to keep focus instilled in him by the Dursleys. Draco always whined at him about how he wasn’t a house-elf; but beat into it or nature, it was all the same. 

Harry suspected that Edward might not be magical, and wouldn’t know of Remus’ death considering the telephone number, and it’s American origins. He had called it, wanting to let the man know about Remus’ death. 

Edward hadn’t reacted at all over the phone, which should have been his first clue. _ “I heard he had a son. Is he fine?”  _

_ “He’s my godson, and he’s alright.”  _

_ “Ah, so you are Harry Potter, I presume?”  _

_ “You’ve heard of me?” _

_ “You can say that. Remus was - an acquaintance. I suppose you could say a friend if you must. I’m aware of your world. It didn’t afford Remus many luxuries such as eating and housing, and so he did work for me when he could.” _

It soon escalated when Harry mentioned that he was not only planning to move to America, but also St. Louis, and that he was training to be an Animator. Edward had seen an opportunity. He’d heard about Harry’s dealings with a certain Dark Lord, and that Edward had been the one responsible for cutting Fenrir Greyback’s pack down to a mere two. 

“Good times, I must say!” Harry had no illusions about what kind of man he was dealing with, but he also knew that if he was to ever move forward he couldn’t sit on his haunches like a little boy waiting for someone to tell him to stand up. He had to do it. Voldemort’s words of wisdom ringing loud and clear. 

It all spiraled from there. Harry proved very useful to Edward, and in exchange, Edward taught him how to hunt. How to take care of himself. How to compartmentalize better. Snape’s occlumency sessions were a joke in comparison to what Edward could do without magic. 

Harry already knew how to take care of himself in a way, not that Edward or Draco would agree. He huffed at himself as he dusted the corners of each room. Messy home, messy mind; and Harry had a very clean home.

It was strictly platonic and professional. Edward did not have the emotional depth of a normal person, and Harry was used to that. He could work with it. He would get blasted through a room, and come out smirking on the other end, holding the hair of a head detached from its body. 

Hunting was Edward’s only passion. It was Edward’s only real reason for living. Harry might not have known much, but he knew this. 

So, how did it start to turn from strict professionalism to something that Harry wasn’t sure what he would qualify it as? Sure as hell wasn’t romantic interest. Maybe sexual. Edward had made a few remarks about his ability to get under people’s skin. He said it made it easier for Edward to pin his mark.

But, to go from that to dry humping near a dead goat in a graveyard? His first real kiss with another man? How was he to put this out on the table in context? 

He didn’t know. 

Harry _ really _ didn’t know. 

Harry’s limited knowledge in relationships of any kind amounted to all of two girls, and yes they were girls at the time as he was a kid. A bad date and kiss to a fiery redhead who tried to plan out their future only for Harry to wake up and realize that he simply couldn’t. 

No. It wasn’t him. He had to get out of the box, and so he did. When Draco asked Harry if he had any type interests in men from their world he hadn’t been the most honest because the answers might have drawn a lot of weirdness. 

Harry kept a lot of things close to his chest, fearing backlash. He’d learned to hide a lot if only to protect himself over the years. 

There had been men in the wizarding world that Harry had been attracted to. One of them just so happened to be Draco’s father, and the other? None other than the Dark Lord himself. 

He huffed and sat down against a wall, staring around the front hall that shined in the soft lighting. 

Yeah, those were not conversation starters or worth sharing. Harry knew that he was on the screwed up side. One does not live with the Dursleys for seventeen years as a full blooded and most hated little wizard and come out unscathed. One did not have mad-men chasing after him his whole life, only to start living a normal lifestyle afterwards. 

Maybe he should shower. He would be going to the District tonight, and while he wasn’t about to truss himself up like a piece of sex meat on legs, he could at least try and look presentable. A large wide open hall greeted him, Draco called it a mud room or flood room, something of that nature. A silver and black stoned fireplace sat along the wall with the Floo powder resting on top. 

No one ever used it except for Draco when he talked to his parents once a week. He took a set of elliptical staircases, they like everything else shined. They were made of mahogany. Harry liked that wood. It was rich and sturdy. It didn’t bend very much, and it looked good. 

Harry had always believed he wanted normalcy; but not even six months after the war, normalcy had become a strain on his sanity. He was bored, so endlessly bored. He had nothing going for him, and with all the well intentioned people coming at him from all sides, Harry was feeling smothered and fast. 

Now, here he was proverbially standing between two very dangerous men with very different motives. Both wanted something from him, both wanted to use him until he dried up. 

Harry was oddly okay with that because at least he knew the score. Edward made no bones about staying useful, and Jean-Claude saw him as a pet of sorts. 

The only snag in any of this was that Harry didn’t see them that way. He saw Edward as a real confidant. He had feelings for the man, and it had nothing to do with lust. Harry loved Edward in a way that the man would never understand or even acknowledge. A way that Edward would probably laugh at, and if he did take Harry seriously he’d probably try to show his own version of like by shoving a new sparkling handgun in his hand. 

Yeah, Edward didn’t do diamonds or dinner dates with a film. 

Harry snorted at the idea, and the large massive shower sputtered on, instantly heating. Harry really loved magic during instances like these. He began to strip as he thought about the other man in his life. 

One that was even more infuriating and confusing for someone like him. At least he knew what Edward meant. Harry spent a lot of time trying to decipher the other man’s hidden meanings that by the time he finished that handsome git had him wrapped around his perfect finger. 

Jean-Claude on the other hand wanted to woo and romantically invade Harry at all costs, and for what reason Harry still couldn’t pin down. 

Harry adored Jean-Claude. He loved his nature. He loved his personality, and he liked listening to a voice that was unbelievably seductive and unique. As much as he adored Edward and loved him too, he felt that Jean-Claude was his first real friend. Edward had been a teacher. Not a friend. 

Harry loved both men in two different ways, but he knew that neither of them would ever love him back. Maybe that was part of his ire last night when he’d exploded, and knocked out the power in the area? He had realized that no matter how much they pretended, it would never be real. 

It couldn’t be real, and Harry could be okay with that until it built to the point of explosion. 

At least Harry was doing what he wanted to do. He was in the company of people he wanted to be with, and if that turned out to be the death of him, who cared?

Harry wasn’t afraid of death. He was more afraid of living because living had so many attachments. So many uncertainties. 

It was death where true solace lay, and he would not fear walking into the dark  _ permanently _ one of these days. 

As the light began to dim, Harry prepared for his evening, and he knew he needed as much time as he could as he didn’t have Draco or Jean-Claude to come to the rescue of a fashion disaster, but Harry was a quick learner. 

He could find something. 

Surely. 

Okay, an hour later, Harry was rolling his neck and scowling at all the clothes that littered his floor. A few hung over the bedposts, and the stuffed green armchair in the corner was piled high. Since when did he get all this? 

He circled once, standing in nothing but a pair of boy style shorts. He was going to guess that Draco, the curator of his wardrobe, had been responsible at some point. When he was stressed he would boost St. Louis’ economy by going on a spree. 

But, nothing seemed remotely like what he wore last night or what Draco had put him in. 

And then he smacked his palm to his forehead when he eyed the cordless telephone. If he couldn’t have Draco right here right now then he could call Draco. 

He snatched the phone, and quickly dialed. It took three rings, but Draco grabbed the phone. “Harry? Are you okay?” Harry was one of the few who would actually call his dormitory. 

“Not really, yes, I’m fine. I know you’re busy, but I need help,” Harry groaned sitting on the bed. “I have a date tonight,” he winced at the lie when Draco cheered across the line. “I have no idea-” 

“I got it! Are you in the closet?” 

“Er - well the closet is with me more like. I’ve tried everything, and nothing looks right. How the hell do you and Jean-Claude do it?” 

“Finesse and talent, Harry! What kind of date is it?” 

“Er- I don’t know. I’ll be in the district, Guilty Pleasures probably.” 

“Ooh, are you going to get a private show? Those are wicked awesome!” Harry choked. 

“Phillip gave you a private show?” 

“Hell yeah! It was great! Still don’t understand the legalities of it.”

“As long as you’re over age, there’s not much you can’t do so long as it doesn’t hurt another.” Although that was relative at times, but it was the simplest explanation. 

“Okay, I think today we should show off your stripes! You might be small, but don’t let those gaudy arse magazines the Muggles spill fool you. You want to own your height. Do you see a pair of black slacks with very thin vertical white pinstripes?” 

Harry scanned the floor, and beamed when he saw them at the foot of the bed. “Yep!” He snatched it up. 

“You should wear a gray or black belt with it, and let’s change the color this time. You’re great in darks! Do you remember that royal purple wide boat-neck?” 

“I know what purple is, but the boat-neck you’re going to have to be a little more simplistic,” said Harry scanning his clothing. 

“It’s long sleeved, but with Cooling Charms you can handle it.” It would also make Edward happy because that meant he could hide weapons on him as he fished around, and pulled the fabric close. It wasn’t a button up as he usually wore. Instead it had a clingy like fabric that when he ran his palm down it became static. 

“Now, to keep from making it look too girlie…” It was exactly what Harry was thinking. “You should see a dove gray vest. You don’t need to button it.” 

“Which one? You bought me like six of them.”

“Solid. You only mix stripes and designs if you’re experienced, and you’re not there Harry.” 

Harry laughed. “You got that right. Now, shoes?” 

“Same ones I got you. It’ll be perfect. You have some height that you wish for so much. Style your hair the same way, it’s about all you can do with it.” 

Anyone else might have been insulted by Draco’s way with words, but he appreciated the simplistic way he was going about it. “Great, thanks Draco, you are the best.” 

“Of course I am! Now, back to all night studying!” 

“You really need a break. Why would you torture yourself by taking exams in the summer? You could have waited.” 

“I want it and I want it yesterday! It’s so stupid half these classes are pointless! But, then looking at it from a business standpoint. It’s kind of bloody brilliant. Every class costs, and so use it as a requirement for your major even if it’s useless. You won’t object in fear of them rejecting you. So you shut your mouth and pay out the arse. Hm, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Harry continued chuckling. “Try not to go too mad, Draco. I need my friend to keep dressing me after all.” 

“You got it, and have fun!” 

“I’ll try.” Harry felt like a downright arse lying to Draco as he hung the phone up. But, it was better than telling the truth and him tagging along. 

Harry was confident in his skills, but Draco didn’t need that. Not anymore. That life was over for Draco. He turned a new page, and he didn’t need that kind of excitement. Let him stick to his exams and summer college courses. 

Harry could handle the rest. 

Not only was he dressed an hour and a half later, but he was certain that Edward would approve. Ontop of having three guns with two extra magazines of ammo stuffed and hidden on certain parts of him, he also had a razor wire hidden behind the belt that Draco suggested. 

Harry didn’t understand where Draco could layer clothes upon clothes and make it look good. Never in his life would he have chosen this combination. He supposed it looked okay. A complete difference from Jean-Claude’s taste, but then what did he know?

He styled his hair in the usual shagged look, no glasses or contacts needed and he was ready for the night. One wrist had his Elder Wand, and the other had an easy fling silver dagger. His boot also contained a gun, and beneath the shirt in the small of his back was the gleaming magnum strapped by a magically modified holster. It had a sticking charm, not permanent that would really hurt should it tried to be ripped off him. He tucked the moleskin pouch beneath his shirt and made sure it didn’t pooch out oddly. Each firearm was fully loaded and ready in case of any attacks. He wanted to get to Guilty Pleasures, and let Jean-Claude know what he had found. He also wanted to check in on Phillip. 

Heading out in the late summer heat, Harry was glad he had added the Cooling Charms to each article of clothing. It would last a few hours at best before he had to re-apply, but surely he would be done and tucked in bed by then?

He had some time to spare, and stopped at a diner for a quick bite to eat, and soon the stars began to pop one by one as the clouds rolled over to a shimmery gray. He flew across the bridge, and only stopped when he came to a light so that the traffic of excited tourists and club crawlers could get passed. 

Everything was lit up and though it was a weekday, people were everywhere enjoying their time amongst the Supernatural. Harry thought he could understand the non magicals if only a little bit. Their lives were so every day, so normal and plain that some excitement in their lives was needed. At least these people lived a little, and while in the day they might sneer and look the other way and pretend vampires and weres didn’t exist, at least they seemed to be trying. 

Even if it was for entertainment purposes only. It was far and away how the Dursleys were. 

He managed to get a place in an actual car-park, and soon he was standing beneath the glowing flickering red of Guilty Pleasures. He could hear the music, and sometimes a crowd. About a dozen people were standing behind the loopy red queue. He recognized Buzz and confidently headed for him ignoring those waiting to get in. 

Buzz met his eyes instantly, and tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Harry.” 

“Hey Buzz. Nice to see you again! Is Jean-Claude in?” 

Buzz shook his head. “No.” He looked away at that, and Harry frowned. 

“Buzz?” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can’t what?” 

“I am sorry.” He held out his large hand, and Harry took it. He felt a crunch of something in his palm. “You should leave. I can’t protect you.” His eyes gleamed beneath the sign. 

Harry’s heart thumped a bit harder, and he squeezed Buzz back. “No one has to protect me, Buzz,” he said in a quiet voice. “Not even Jean-Claude.” He leaned up on his toes and kissed Buzz on the cheek before turning and heading away, aware of the vampire and crowd staring at his back. 

He hadn’t known what else to do, and once he was mixed with the crowd he pulled the crumpled paper to see beautiful looping calligraphy. 

_ Where the clowns have teeth, and carnival has eyes. You will find your treasure behind a bed of lies. Mon Belle, do be cautious, and seek Rafael should all be lost. _

That was all, and Harry’s heart continued it’s fast pace to the point that even the Cooling Charms couldn’t control the natural heat flaring. “Merlin, I hope you’re alright, Jean,” he whispered into the neon night. 

He didn’t know what it meant, but with Jean-Claude disappearing, this couldn’t be good. He hoped to Merlin that it wasn’t the animator. Harry would shred him until his already rotting corpse felt the pain. 

He hadn’t realized he gave off a strong aura as a few tourists squeaked and drew away from him. A couple of vampires tilted their heads curiously, and even a were or two would glance in his direction. 

He pretended not to notice as he headed in the direction of the Circus. Only one place that had a carnival with clowns and teeth. 

Circus of the Damned was a large building set in the back inside of a massive old warehouse with an expansive parking lot. Harry was going to guess that it was at one time a factory. At least that’s what it looked like. 

A glowing sign lit above it showing a pair of dancing clowns twirling together, and yes, they had fangs. A large number of posters were plastered in vivid primary colors laced with black.

A heavy set of black double doors kept opening and shutting. He was about a block away, but the Circus couldn’t be missed. He crossed into an alley nearer to the circus where the shadows gathered to keep cover. 

He hugged the brick building he was near as he scanned the warehouse from the distance. It was kind of amazing how far he could see now. Not even before when his glasses were replaced could he see so well. Every detail seemed to be magnified, and even his hearing picked up streams of conversations from nearby crowds. 

He used a bit of light magic to cover himself with a Disillusionment Charm, and then boldly stepped out. No one noticed him, at least no one human. He hadn’t quite tested this theory with vampires. For all he knew they would be able to see past him. He should be careful from here on. 

_ Constant vigilance! _

Good ol’ Mad-Eye. Gone, but surely not forgotten. What would he think of Harry now? Probably frown and then keel over with a heart-attack if he knew the life Harry had chosen for himself. He would never have expected it. Right now, he should be married to Ginny Weasley, have a child on the way, and working at the Ministry as an Auror. That was the life that had been painted for him, but it wasn’t one that he chose for himself. He didn’t exactly care about bloodlines and whether or not someone had his name. Teddy was more than enough. 

“It was probably that other Necromancer!” hissed a voice causing Harry to instinctively flatten against the wall of the building as shadows began to grow. 

“Don’t spit on me, Zachary,” sneered the deep tone of who Harry recognized as Burchard. “You had one task and you spoiled it. By the way, what the hell are you wearing these days? It smells like shit and apples. I don’t like either.” 

“Apologies! I’ve been working around the clock. I lost his scent after he left the graveyard.” 

“And the other-?” 

“No idea who he is, lover probably. I’ll bet Jean-Claude is so heartbroken,” mocked Zachary. 

“Like it will do him any good where he’s at right now.” 

As the two came into full view, Harry knew that he would be testing the charm, but as they were human, or well at least Burchard was, they didn’t seem to notice him. 

That same smell of rotten apples wafted in the air causing Harry’s skin to tingle with warning. He searched the man now that he was closer, finding him dressed casually, but it was the feathered Gris-Gris around his neck that he focused on. 

It had white feathers. 

More and more evidence confirmed that not only was Jean-Claude here, but this was likely Nikolaos’ resting place. Not only that, but he was definitely at the graveyard, and Harry needed nothing more to know the truth. This guy was his murderer. 

“I still can’t believe Valentine missed. He never misses!” 

“He’s not what he used to be. That is the punishment faced when one gives offense. Aubrey has been sent to take care of it” 

The two of them stopped along the wall that looked like nothing, but then Burchard knocked three times, a second later a door opened from the inside. 

“You’re late! It’s your turn to play with the Rat! Mistress has just woke from her slumber. She is being attended to now,” said an oily voice that Harry couldn’t see nor did he dare get closer. 

“I am only late when my Master deems me late, otherwise I am always right where I need to be,” growled Burchard. “Come along, Zachary.” 

“I could be out tracking him for you now, you know. Aubrey is stupid and reckless.” 

Burchard made a noise and turned to glare at Zachary. “I know he is dimwitted, but he has his uses. You will do as you are told, boy.” 

So, Aubrey was hunting him now? Harry thought as the door finally slammed closed. He could hear a plethora of locks as though they were needed. It opened from the inside only after all. 

But, then, what was a wall and a lock to a wizard? Not much really. Not that Harry didn’t want to make an entrance, but he had absolutely no idea what the layout was like if he went in there now. Edward would never forgive him, and Jean-Claude might die if he made a mistake. 

_ “I’m sorry Jean-Claude, please wait for me a little longer, _ ” Harry mentally whispered. 

It was as though he were being responded to because a cool wind brushed across his face and through his hair. It caressed along his neck, sending his back to the wall, and Harry became entranced. His eyes fluttering and his mind began to whirr. Something was sliding around him, poking and prodding something in his mind. It was like permission for admittance. 

Harry didn’t want to, but the caress became cooler more seductive, and he knew it was Jean-Claude. Somehow, the mark within him, the life-force or whatever it was began to call, and for some reason he felt a pink aura settle, and so he tentatively opened his mind, and he let out a shuddering gasp when he saw through the nothingness two flaming points glaring at him, they smoldered the same color of Jean-Claude’s eyes. 

He could feel them moving closer toward his own eyes, getting bigger and brighter. He was entranced staring at them, and he gave a nod. It moved closer, and Harry let out a soft whine as he fell to his knees. A strange floaty lasso latched around him as he was engulfed in a force beyond him. 

He was left breathless, and the world around him came back in a swirl of color and sound. It was as if he’d been port-keyed to nowhere, and back again. 

He was panting, holding his chest, and feeling winded. As if the energy had been sucked dry from him. He had no idea what he had done, but he felt as if whatever it was might save Jean-Claude’s life. 

He sure hoped so because he wasn’t about to lose a friend. 

For some reason Harry’s stomach began to sir as if unhappy with his thoughts. He shook his head and climbed to his feet. He double checked that the charm was wrapped around him, and he turned to go only to flinch when he bumped right into the tall formidable figure of Aubrey. His face was contorted in a vicious grin, one fang piercing his own flesh causing blood to dribble. 

“I’ve never had a job so easy tiny witch,” Aubrey hissed wildly. His eyes swirled with insanity, and Harry learned that Disillusionment didn’t always work on a vampire. 

Good to know. 

“Your little tricks won’t help you from the likes of someone like me. A pet to Jean-Claude, who knew he would betray his kind for a human?” He began to circle Harry who did not take his gaze as he followed the circling inch by inch. Aubrey’s eyes intensified, and Harry felt as if he was trying to do something. 

Roll? “That’s not going to work. If Jean-Claude couldn’t roll me or your own master, no way in hell can you. So stop posturing, and if you’re here to kill me…” Harry smiled prettily as he dropped the charm allowing himself to be seen. “I’d like to see you try.” 

Aubrey lunged and Harry popped away with a crack causing the vampire to hiss and spin around crouching. “Where are you little witch? You can’t use your tricks against me! I have orders, and I will complete them.” 

“Yoohoo!” Harry called out around the corner. He wanted to draw Aubrey away from any potential crowds, and the woods nearby was the perfect place. 

Aubrey rushed, and Harry popped away again only to appear on the other side near the tree line, and he took off in a sprint. 

Moving fast was one power most vampires had, even novices. Aubrey managed to get in front of Harry, bringing his palm down and smashing it on Harry’s shoulder causing the younger man to stumble, but not crumple like paper as he felt his joint dislocate. He could have cried out, but he bit down harshly on his tongue so that Aubrey wouldn’t get the satisfaction. Blood soaked his mouth, metal and copper as he swallowed thickly. His teeth clenched to keep it in. 

“Hah! Maybe you are tougher than you look. I see you have a couple of his marks. It won’t work. Oh, didn’t he tell you that strong vampires can tell when someone tries to make a human servant of their own? Not like it will matter long, you’ll both die,” Aubrey sneered. “And I’m going to kill you, and then bring your head to Jean-Claude. He will enjoy that won’t he? Or maybe I’ll fuck your dead corpse. Might be fun, not really my thing, but I’d do it if only to see his reaction. Master Nikolaos will reward me beyond measure. I’ll never be in a cross-wired coffin again!” He rushed Harry again who was quicker this time. He dived into a roll toward the ground, soft falling and then turning around.

Shit. It hurt. It really hurt, but Harry fought through the pain. He’d had the Cruciatus laid on him. He could handle a dislocated joint! 

He ripped the magnum from the holster and he sank two bullets instantly into the man’s chest sending him faltering backwards. A hole tore through his chest, but that didn’t put him down. It wouldn’t kill him, but silver bullets would slow him. Aubrey growled as the blood pooled, and he shook it off like a wet dog. Or not. 

Harry managed to get to his feet, but Aubrey made impact sending him flying through the air. He used his magic to cushion his fall as he smacked into a tree. No amount of cushioning was going to stop at least a bruise forming, but it didn’t break anything else. His useless shoulder felt like it was grinding against the bone making Harry’s tongue bleed harder as he kept a lid on making pained noises. 

Harry didn’t hesitate to move. Shooting around the tree, and flicking his wand into his palm. “Stupefy!” Aubrey cried out when a red jet of light smashed into him. “Edward, your magnum sucks,” Harry hissed out. “I tried it your way, and now it’s my turn to do it my way.” 

Aubrey was on his back, but not for long. He shot up like a dart. His hand grabbed Harry’s neck causing him to gasp against his will as he was smashed once more into a tree. “I will kill you!” he roared lividly. Harry smiled. It was strained, but it was a smile. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” 

“Burn baby burn,” Harry sing-songed, and the smell of cooked meat and smoke causing Aubrey to cry out and fly backwards as he cradled both his flaming hands. 

“Wh-what are you?” 

“I’m a wizard you dumb arse! If your master couldn’t touch me, you sure as hell can’t.” Instead of outright killing him, Harry smashed him in the face with a blast that sent him vaulting back. He landed harshly, and Harry heard his spine cracking upon impact. With a twirl, thick leather bound ropes began to wind around the vampire, tightening its hold. 

Aubrey went completely still as Harry stalked over and knelt down. “You’re going nowhere. You are going to die.” He put an extra surge of magic to freeze Aubrey in place with a touch of his knee. 

“...” His gaze was mad, like a wild dog infested with rabies. 

“The question is, how do you want to die? I’m going to give you a choice,” said Harry speaking calmly. “You can die an excruciating pain that may very well last for some time before you take that final breath… and trust me. I know ways to prolong the pain. I’m not much into torture, but I will do it when you mess with those in my life. Or, I could make it painless. You’ll fall asleep, and never wake up again.” 

“W-why?” 

“Where is Jean-Claude?” 

“N-no! I w-won’t tell you, you bitch!” 

Harry sighed. “Come on now. You know you’re not going to win. No one is coming for you.” Aubrey let out a strangled noise, something like a whimper. Harry admitted to having a small amount of guilt if Aubrey chose the first path. “Please tell me. Death is only but the next big adventure, Aubrey. You will be at peace. Away from this life. Away from Nikolaos. She tortured you. She didn’t give you a choice.” Harry leaned forward, not flinching at the flame of pain in his shoulder or the way his back felt as though he’d been trampled by Buckbeak. “I’m giving you a choice. Please don’t choose the first one.” 

Finally, a small hint of sanity seemed to glimmer across him. A realization as he looked into Harry’s resolute face, and into brilliant green eyes. “Below. Coffin room. You won’t get there,” Aubrey shuddered. “You’ll never get there. She won’t let you. He’s there for good. You won’t free him! You can’t!” 

“One last question. Does Nikolaos know that Zachary is the one murdering the master vampires?” 

Aubrey squawked at this, blood pooling out of his mouth as he choked. “W-what? P-preposterous!” 

“No, it’s not. I have evidence. Did you not notice how he smelled? He’s dead, he’s using a Gris-Gris with vampire blood to keep him on this earth. He raised a cemetery of ghouls, and he has to keep killing to stay alive.” 

“You have nice eyes,” choked Aubrey. “Please end it. I’m tired.” 

“You see, I could have been your ally, Aubrey. I could have been Nikolaos’ ally. I’m a pretty crafty little man. You could have had the world if you’d left me and mine alone. But, you didn’t. You threatened me. You threatened Jean-Claude, and now you have to pay the price.” Harry rose from his position. He grasped his shoulder and tried to get it back into position, but there was no way he was going to do anything. 

“... I have nothing more to say. But, be mindful, Burchard is not an average human.” 

“I know. He’s a human servant.” 

“Jean-Claude lucked out,” laughed Aubrey. “A little witch full of power, and pretty looks. You know, I like women, but I’d fuck you.” 

“Please do hush. You’re not winning any favors with me.” Harry rolled the Elder Wand in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t a hard spell like Crouch Jr had told them. In fact, it was the easiest of the three. All it required was a resolve. A resolve to end something, and while Harry was not cruel by nature, he was no Edward and he never would be. He did have resolve. A resolve to protect what he had. “ _ Avada Kedavra! _ ” A thick jet of brilliant green light spilled from Harry’s wand, it lit the entire woods, and when it died down Aubrey’s eyes were wide open staring into the starry sky. 

All was quiet, and like a marionette whose strings have been cut, Harry collapsed to the ground. He let out a choked sob as he reached for his shoulder. Every part of his body hurt from head to toe. Blood dripped from his own mouth from all the clenching. 

Some would call it Gryffindor Pride, but Harry likened it more to a Slytherin kind of Pride. He did not show pain until he was alone. He would not give enemies the satisfaction of seeing him weak. 

Harry stared at the dead vampire, his heart exploding with a kind of pain that Edward couldn’t feel. He didn’t get any pleasure from taking a life. How could he? Even if it was a nasty and vicious person. He would admit to loving the rush of battle and feel of adrenaline, but the end result always left him devastated. It left him crying inside. At least he didn’t choose the other path. Harry could barely pull himself together if he was forced to torture or any such. He wasn’t built for that kind of thing. 

All the world around him began to spin, the hue of green trees, the hot summer night. It was all rushing together, and he knew he had to get somewhere, and get there fast. But, he couldn’t move. He had no energy left in him. 

Avada Kedavra was a heavy spell, one that took a lot of life-force to be cast, and he was at his limit. He couldn’t even muster up enough to apparate. He was truly stuck, and he still had a dead body to take care of. Shit. He wasn’t far enough away from potential enemies. He had to move, but his body refused. 

Get up! On your knees! Now! Up, up, up! But, Harry remained frozen, and specks of darkness began to roll across his eyes. 

“Edward…!” Harry choked, and something strong pulsed within him as he fell backwards to the earth. 

In the distance, he thought he heard a crunch. But, no way. Edward wouldn’t expect him here or even sense him. No way he could track Harry where he was, and part of him shouldn’t want him to. But, the other part. He wanted to be found. 

Harry didn’t see who it was because his eyes were swimming, and the shadows gained. But he was lifted off the ground into strong arms that burned against him. He decided then that fighting was pointless. If he died, what did it matter? At least he paved the way. Edward would figure the rest out, and maybe Jean-Claude would be okay. 

Harry didn’t know and right now, he just wanted to sleep, and so he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the readers out there! I hope you keep enjoying this. <3


	11. Chapter 10

He really needed to stop passing out after a rush of magic. It was the first thought that came to his mind, and before he opened his eyes. 

Something was tied to his arm, holding it in place and keeping him from moving. It was irritating, and he wanted it gone. He felt as if he were in a straight jacket. Merlin, he hoped not. Smells lingered in the room, some age and water damage, but clean. The sound of tapping nearby. A clink here from a glass and a bottle. Someone came closer. 

“Looks like your little witch is waking Rafael,” said a female close to him. 

“He’s not my witch,” said a slightly arrogant, and yet rich voice. 

“For now he is. Hey - little one - I know you’re awake. I can hear your pulse!” A soft tap to his cheek.

Talk about a bed-side manner gone askew! Harry managed to crease his eyes open, blinking at a dull light nearby. Whoever had tapped him stepped away. 

“Pretty eyes. He’s all yours, Rafael. I’ll leave you alone. I’ve done my job.” Harry heard and felt the movement of footsteps. 

Concrete.

He turned his head from side to side, and then tried to sit up only to grimace at the twinge in his back. 

“You are bruised from the neck to your ass. How do you feel?” 

“Like I’ve been bruised from neck to arse,” Harry replied with a dry chapped voice. A snort resulted and when he managed to get right, he raised his head to see the man speaking. Is St. Louis the prime location for handsome men? If it was, surely it would win a prize. 

He was big at least six foot, rich dark complexion with equal dark eyes. He was muscular from head to toe, wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts that were frayed at the ends and a green button down shirt that was open revealing the toned physique. He had a tattoo of a four pointed crown on his left arm. 

The two of them stared at one another, and it really amazed him how many people could be so blank. “Let me guess, Rafael. Right?” he asked thickly. 

Rafael reached for a glass of ice water, and extended it to Harry who hesitantly took it. “You killed Aubrey.” 

Harry nodded as he smelled the water, and didn’t detect anything. He should double check, but with Rafael’s intense eyes on him, he didn’t want to insult, and so he took the plunge and sipped it. It felt nice going down his throat, and he sighed as he lowered his chin. “Yeah.” 

“... I saw everything,” said Rafael grabbing a chair with one hand and plonking it down to sit. He crossed his arms. “What was it that you did?” 

“Magic,” answered Harry noticing they were in a clean half empty room. It seemed like a small storage house or bunker. 

“I am aware of magic. I know a few witches, but no one I have ever heard of has magic the way you do.” 

“I’m not a witch,” Harry explained. “I am a wizard. It’s different. I can’t believe you all walk around as who you are, and have never encountered a real witch or wizard.” 

“Real?” 

Harry huffed. “Yes, a real witch and a real wizard. The ones you know are not witches. They are more akin to druids or shamans. They take from the earth. They haven’t a real drop of magical blood inside of them. It’s more like psychic or telekinesis, but it’s not magic. In my home country and the magical world necromancy is illegal.”

Rafael never blinked, never took his gaze from Harry’s face. “Why are you answering my questions?” 

“You asked. I don’t much like to lie unless I have to,” said Harry shifting, and finally noticing the cast and sling on his arm. He appreciated the aid, but the sling wouldn’t do. He’d have to take care of it later. “You are Rafael, right? Jean mentioned you in a letter.” 

“You were foolish to face Aubrey without so much as a backup.” 

“I didn’t expect to face him. I didn’t realize my charm would be seen through by him. Good to know for the future.” 

“How did you kill him?” 

“A spell. It’s the only spell in the world that can kill near anything instantly. It’s not an easy spell, takes about everything I have out of me. I don’t like to use it.” 

“You’re soft.” 

“I’m human.” 

“True. You’re young.” 

“Twenty-three.” 

“You have to be younger. You smell no older than seventeen.” Rafael rose, his hands pressed to the bed and he moved forward. “Jean-Claude does not like them as children.” 

“I am not a child,” said Harry locking eyes with Rafael. “I am a twenty-three year old man. It isn’t exactly my fault that I lived in a cupboard under the stairs and was starved for the first eleven years of my life,” he said flatly. “Kind of stunts a boy’s growth you know? Not everyone can be miracle giants. All of you, seriously.” He sipped at his water, and Rafael didn’t acknowledge his words except to tilt his head. “It’s not fair. What is your secret?” 

Rafael’s lip twitched. “I guess it would be sunlight. Vampires excluded.” He sank back into the chair again leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What is your name then?” 

“Harry Potter. I have a Black hyphen, but that’s not really important. I often forget about it.” He shrugged at this. “Thank you - for helping me.” 

“... Jean-Claude said you will free us. I’m not so sure, but I am not discounting it after seeing that magic you unleashed.” 

Harry was surprised that Jean-Claude would even talk to him to someone. “He must trust you.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“He would never talk about me in front of anyone he doesn’t trust. He’s kind of odd like that. He thinks I’m fragile.” 

“I can see why.” 

“Size isn’t everything.” 

“Do you want to bet on that?” Rafael drawled causing Harry’s cheeks to flare. 

He looked away. “Not now honey, I have a headache,” he imitated one of those American films that Draco loved so much. 

Rafael laughed richly, and then he dropped it as though he never laughed at all. A pity. It made his face look even nicer. “I can’t assist you in whatever it is you’re planning against her. She tries to control us, and I will not be ordered around by a diminutive brat.” 

“Us?” 

“She claims that wererats are her animal to call.” Harry froze at this. Wererats? Now that was a new one. “I am able to resist as the leader, so the bond is very loose, and yet I can do nothing about it. However, that does not stop the others from undermining my authority, and I do not like it. I plan to teach them a hard-earned lesson. I might be willing to get you in, but if you fail - we all die.” 

“Not if I have another with me. One who has no problem taking out anything in his path.” Including Innocents, but Harry didn’t add that. “I did not plan to fight tonight.” 

“Yet you came with an arsenal?” He pointed a long finger at the tray where all of Harry’s weapons were displayed. He was amused to find that they had missed two. 

“It makes certain people happy if I actually arm myself, but I swear it was because I was playing by his rules that I ended up in this sling,” said Harry rubbing at his shoulder. “I can kill her, and not only kill her, but also Zachary.” 

“What does he have to do with anything?” asked Rafael. 

“He’s the one killing the vampires.” 

Rafael straightened. “You are sure?” 

“Yes. have you smelled him lately? I can’t believe Nikolaos can’t smell him. I am human and I can smell him! By Merlin, she has to be the most stupid vampire ever, but she is a stunted child in the end. A very creepy stunted child.” 

Rafael grunted. “You’re not kidding.” 

“Her brain hadn’t completely developed before she was turned, and even if she grows as a vampire. She doesn’t grow as a human into her human brain. I have to get to Jean-Claude.” 

“I can show you where he is, but I can do nothing more. You will have to do the fight.” 

“I won’t be alone. I would be lynched if I went in there on my own. I’m not that stupid. Okay, sometimes I can be.” Rafael grinned slyly when Harry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t know Jean had been captured until I got to the District. Buzz slid me a note.” He fished into his pocket, and held out the crumpled note. 

Rafael took it, showing nothing on his face. “You say he trusts me, but he must have some faith in you.” 

“He’s complicated.” 

Rafael snorted. “Aren’t we all?” 

He didn’t seem like a Peter Pettigrew type, Harry thought observing him as they both went quiet. Harry continued to sip at the water, and acknowledged that he was deliriously famished. More so than he ever remembered being even as a starved child. It was to the point that he had mild hunger pains shooting into his stomach causing him to grimace slightly. 

“Odd.” 

“What? Do I need to get the Doctor back in here?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, please thank her for me. I’m fine. Just really hungry. Unusually so,” he said deciding that this was the point in which he should get his arse up, and do some adulting. 

“Unusually?” Rafael arched an eyebrow. 

“Told you, I was starved most of my life. I’m used to hunger, but man, I’m really bloody hungry!” 

Rafael crossed his arms over the expanse of his chest. “You’ve been marked, right? That’s why you’re helping?”

“Not why I’m helping Jean.” Harry said. “But, yeah I have been marked. First time, Jean felt he didn’t have a choice. I was dying. Valentine shot me in the neck with a poison, and I think he marked me again when I was at the Circus before Aubrey…” He rubbed his cheek. “Maybe that’s why I feel so drained? He took some of my energy?” 

“Likely. I don’t know much about a marking, but I am aware that it is a transference. A give and take system until the fourth mark completes it, and you are bound for life. Is this a choice you made?” 

“... I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I like Jean. He’s a great friend of mine. My first friend when I came here to America, and friends mean something to me. He’s very flirty, but I don’t see why he would be that way toward me. I’m nothing special.” He shook his head at the idea. ”I don’t get him at all!” He waved his hand. “I felt him push into me even if he wasn’t there. He wanted inside my head, and I let him.” Edward was something completely different. At least at first. 

“He asked permission? I didn’t think a vampire had to ask,” Rafael drawled richly. 

“He can’t roll me. No one can. Not even Nikolaos. She can’t even get in my head. You have to have permission to get in there.” He didn’t notice the spark of respect or acknowledgment from Rafael as he carefully stepped off the bed. “But, I made an exception for Jean. I felt he needed me. Needed my help, and I’ll fight to my last breath to help a friend.” 

As he slid from the bed bare-feet hitting the concrete he noticed that he was without his shoes, socks, and a shirt. He supposed that would make sense. You couldn’t fix a disjointed shoulder with so much interference. But he was downright chilly causing him to shiver as he looked around. 

“Your shirt had to be cut off,” said Rafael lifting the purple shirt. “I don’t think you’ll be wearing it again.” 

Harry waved his hand. “Ah well, gives Draco more reason to buy me things. But I do need a shirt to wear.” He wasn’t usually so embarrassed or sensitive about skin showing. He was a male after all, but Rafael was so big compared to him. 

It wasn’t as if Harry was skin and bones. He had toned lean muscles thanks to Quidditch, and keeping his body fit enough to keep up with Edward. But, he would never gain anything that bulged. He was solid enough, slim through and through. Nothing concave like the little boy he had been; but while he wasn’t hard either, he was on the softer side. 

“Modesty is not one of Jean-Claude’s virtues,” Rafael mused as he stood, towering over Harry causing a shadow to flicker across him. 

“No, it’s really not,” Harry agreed craning his neck to stare up at the man. He could mend the shirt, but hell getting that thing on, and fighting with the sling looked scary, and he had nothing on to switch with. He took the shredded fabric. “ _ Repairo! _ ” he ran a palm across it, and Rafael watched intently as the fabric began to sew itself back. 

“You can’t wear that even if it is fixed. Here. You can have mine for now,” said Rafael, and Harry tried not to blush as the man shrugged out of open button down. 

Good Merlin! He smelled like sandalwood and earth. Harry managed to get his good arm through, but then paused. “Hm…” 

“Did you not ever suffer a break?” Rafael’s lip twitched, and Harry almost squeaked when a hotter than normal hand brought him closer, skin on skin contact had him flaring as he drew closer to the tall were. 

“Plenty of times. I’ve even had to regrow my own bones once,” said Harry. “I’m hungry and a bit delirious.” And feeling all kinds of strange things. It wasn’t normal for him to be so instantly attracted to anyone or be affected on first contact. He had to know someone. 

Rafael methodically removed the cloth sling from Harry’s shoulder making him clench his teeth. “There was a lot of blood, but no cuts. Did you bite your tongue?” 

“To keep from screaming out and giving Aubrey satisfaction that he’d actually hurt me. Yes. I’ve had worse, admittedly it’s been a while.” He tried to concentrate on the pain instead of Rafael helping into the shirt. “Besides, I’ve let them think I was poisonous.” 

Rafael arched an eyebrow. “And how did you do that?” 

“Nikolaos came at me when I first met her. She touched me, and I burned her.” 

“How?” asked Rafael, eyes widening slightly. 

“My mother. She shielded me when I was a baby, and her magic sort of sank into me,” Harry explained. “A sacrificial kind of magic that gives me a certain amount of protection. If I feel threatened or don’t want to be touched that magic will surface like a burn or electrocution.” 

“How did she die?” asked Rafael who helped him get the sling back on his arm. 

Harry forgot about the pain this time, and was focusing more on the question. “She was murdered by an evil madman when I was a baby. What time is it?” 

“Sometime after two,” said Rafael. “You should be careful who you give this information to. Not everyone is trustworthy.” 

Rafael’s shirt hung on his frame like a curtain. He was no stranger to ill-fitting clothes, but at least it wasn’t old and covered in mothballs. It did make a point in reminding him of how small he tended to be compared to a lot of men. 

“True, but what are you really going to do with that information? No amount of digging is going to get you anything useful. Besides, you helped me and you didn’t have to. You deserve some answers as to why I’m so odd.” He also thought that Draco, Edward, and Jean would be infuriated with him for revealing so much information. He blamed drugs and lack of food. Oh, and his injury. It could make anyone a bit overly chatty. He’d have to try and control it.  _ Constant Vigilance! _ A ghostly Moody hissed in his ear. 

Rafael’s full bottom lip twitched. Harry noticed that the top was a bit thinner and had a perfect sculpt. 

Harry reached for his weapons, and sighed. “Seriously, the gun was useless. It didn’t even slow him down.” He took the moleskin pouch lying on the tray beside the rest and dumped everything but the two wands and a knife inside. So wasn’t fair. Rafael was watching all of this with a small flicker of wonder. 

“Expansion Charm,” Harry told him. 

“I see.” 

“I told you, I’m not a witch.” He stowed the pouch away, and slipped his wands between the folds of his clothes. “So, Nikolaos?” 

“It is best to breach her sanctuary during the day,” said Rafael. “If you are serious I can get you through.” 

Harry nodded. “I am. I want this to be over. I need to get to Jean-Claude, but even I know that if I rush in he would end up dying.” 

“So could you.” 

Harry shrugged, and didn’t bother to comment that worrying about himself was never something he did. “When do you want to do this?” 

“I’ll let you know. It should be during the day when everyone but a few are asleep. A few hours before night, I can get you through to the other side. But, you are on your own when it comes to fighting.” 

“Not a problem!” Harry quipped. 

“Allow me to walk you.” 

“What happened with Aubrey’s body? I really don’t want it called in.” 

“Taken care of,” Rafael smirked. “I’m keeping it close by in case of distraction. All we need is the head anyway.” 

Harry grimaced at the brutality, but agreed that it might be useful. “Well, at least I have proof of my kill if I need it. A witness and a head! Maybe Edward won’t kill me after all. Who knows?” 

Rafael and Harry agreed on where and when to meet. Harry learned they were still in Riverfront, a small abandoned warehouse that looked like a dilapidated shack. Harry asked if they needed reimbursement for the treatment. 

“Perhaps later,” Rafael smirked. “I know when to call in a debt.” 

Harry laughed. “You and everyone else, Rafael.” He scribbled his number on the back of the note Buzz gave him, and handed it off. 

Rafael took it. “Where is your car?” 

“Near Guilty Pleasures.” 

“You shouldn’t be seen right now,” he said frowning thoughtfully. 

“Not a problem.” Harry beamed. 

Rafael sharply nodded. “Do be near your phone. I won’t call more than once.” He wished he could have seen the tall man’s face when Harry disappeared with a soft crack. 

His first stop was a nearby Waffle House where if he didn’t eat something, his stomach might decide to eat him instead. 

He ordered two large waffles, and though the scrambled eggs weren’t his eggs they would do. He also had a large side order of breakfast sausage. The middle aged plump lady waiting on him seemed to take pity on his sling, and continued to offer refills on his coffee without him even asking. When she had dared to ask, Harry told her it was a sheepishly embarrassing story that had to do with him, soap, a shower, and a lot of water. He thought the falling down stairs was too obvious of a lie. 

She had giggled and ruffled his hair like he were a little boy. Harry would find this irritating if he wasn’t so famished. 

“Edward you’re rubbing off on me. Breakfast at two thirty in the morning,” Harry mumbled to himself as he made quick work of his food. It was more delicious than he could have imagined. 

It was definitely the hunger because Harry was not one of those people with an obsession over food. He could go hours, and even days without thinking about it until he knew he needed the energy. It’d been a source of contention when he first met Edward. 

He found he was craving blackberries, but the diner only had blueberries. Harry never craved anything. 

Speaking of, he was going to have to get with Edward, and let him know what was going down. Sooner rather than later. He quickly finished his food, debating whether to go for the peach pie or not, before deciding he’ll make his own. He left a healthy tip to the lady, and was soon pulling into the long winding driveway. 

Edward’s truck was parked in its usual sideways place, and Harry slid in front where he usually stopped, and sat back with a sigh. 

First, he needed to fully heal his shoulder. A good draught of healing, and maybe some Pepper Up to boost, and he should be fine. He didn’t think he needed anything such as skele-gro, but that meant he’d have to get passed Edward first. Something he knew wouldn’t happen without a stare down. He took one more large breath before going in to face the music. A death march. 

He found Edward in the drawing room stretched across a leather sofa with his ankles crossed. His palms were locked behind his head. Cold blue eyes were already tracing him. “Always injured, Little Raven.” 

“It’s a good injury,” said Harry. “I took an arsenal with me, not that it did much.” He dumped out all the weapons in his moleskin pouch. 

“They’re not attached to you.” 

“They were, but they had to be pulled off to patch me up. HAV?” 

“They know nothing. What about you? Get in touch with your vampire toy?” 

Harry’s gaze darkened as he moved to sit, Edward tucked his legs, and he plopped down sighing. “No, they took him.” 

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you charged in there!” 

“Hell no!” Harry squeaked. “Come on, Edward please, have a little more faith in me than that. Just a little?” He pouted, and Edward as usual was always unimpressed. “For a big breakfast?” 

“How about I pretend to?” 

“Better than nothing.” Harry whacked the side of his leg. “Now, be quiet a moment and let me tell you everything because you’re going to want to hear it.” 

“Story time!” Edward laid back and smirked. “Regale me Little Raven.” 

So Harry told him everything from Buzz slipping him a note to sneaking around the  _ outside _ of the Circus under a Disillusion Charm. Edward sat up when Harry began to talking about Aubrey and the fight that ensued, resulting in Aubrey’s death. He then mentioned Rafael, the King of the Wererats, and apparently one of Jean-Claude’s silent partners thanks to the note. 

“He had one of his Doctors patch me up. Nikolaos can’t control him, but she can prevent him from acting against her. He’s going to call me to let me know when he’s going in. Her daytime resting place is the Circus of the Damned.” 

Edward smirked. “Alright, maybe I won’t have to pretend to have faith, Little Raven. I am aware of Rafael. You  _ always _ know the big players. What you say matches up with Rafael’s personality and style. Wererats aren’t an overly strong sort, but they are in abundance. Rats are everywhere.” 

Harry shuddered and looked away. “I can’t believe he’s a rat.” 

“Now that doesn’t sound very Raven like.” Edward’s tone was almost admonishing. 

Harry knew it didn’t. He grimaced. “Yeah, I know and I feel bad about it. I  _ like _ Rafael.” 

“Enough to wear his shirt?” He plucked the oversized shirt. 

“Better than walking around shirtless. No way I could slip into what I was wearing. I had to call Draco for emergency fashion advice. He thinks I went on a date.” He shook his head. “Just rats… I can’t believe rats can be noble,” said Harry swallowing. “You know it’s partly because of a rat that Remus and everyone is dead. So it’s hard to separate. I’m trying.” 

“Better than most.” 

“I’m going to get some healing and pepper up potions. I need to be one hundred percent.” 

“You know I can do that for you.”

“Yes, but then I have to heal human slow, while this tastes disgusting, it’s much quicker.”

“If you hadn’t killed Aubrey, I would be pissed at you.” 

Harry stood, adjusting the cloth sling. “I know. I did it just for you, Edward.” He wandered out of the drawing room to the kitchen where Draco always kept a good supply of Potions. Harry might be an adequate brewer, but thanks to Professor Snape’s gentle teachings he would never enjoy it or be anything but average. 

He chugged two potions down, the pain potion and a mild bone restorative that tasted of sawdust and cabbage. It was slimy and at the same time tacky. He grimaced as his shoulder began to grind and move on it’s own. He bit down on his lip to stem the whine that threatened as he began to pull at the sling. 

“Ngh!” 

Finally after a few heart-beats, all that was left was a dull thud. He tossed the sling aside, and experimentally rolled his shoulder holding the top in case it decided to jolt him. It was fine. Draco was as brilliant as Snape when it came to Potions. By product of the healing potion, his back was also cleared of the ache. He decided to call it a night in case Rafael called early. He needed all the sleep he could get, and stumbled his way to his room that was still a mess of clothes. He threw what was on the bed to the floor, and fell into the plush mattress with a deep sigh. Potions couldn’t match the softness and need of a mattress. He sank into the throes of a warm sleep before he could even kick off his shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Kimpatsu here! Bittersweet will be posting the last few chapters before the new year while I'm incommunicado with the fam. So I just wanted to say: I hope you enjoy them and have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and any other holiday you might celebrate!


	12. Chapter Eleven

#  Chapter Eleven

“Come, mon belle. Come to me,” Jean-Claude’s voice, like silk gliding across his skin, penetrated every part of Harry’s body. He found himself standing in a large room, walls high and draped in black and white tapestries, but it was the luxurious four poster bed that had his attention. Lying in the center stretched out with nothing more than a silk black sheet across his hips was Jean-Claude. He was lying on his side, midnight curls brushing across his broad shoulders. His well built chest rising and falling, and Harry’s eyes traced a small trail of coarse black hair that trailed down his belly below his navel into the sheets. He lingered on the cross burn that stood out. Jean-Claude’s deep blue eyes searched Harry who stood at the foot of the bed, his skin tingling with nerves. 

“You can’t be serious,” said Harry trying to avert his gaze from the figure on the bed. By Merlin, men like him should not be allowed to exist. Honestly. 

“Why must you make things so difficult, mon belle? Does intimacy scare you?” 

“Everything about you scares me,” Harry slipped out causing Jean-Claude to chuckle richly, and tilt his head forward. 

“Come.” He crooked his finger, and made a motion, and Harry’s feet were moving around the four poster that was twice the size of Harry’s. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Yes you do, mon belle. Surely, a catch such as you has been enthralled many times.” 

“No.” 

“I do not believe such a tale, mon belle.” He reached his hand out toward Harry who hesitated. “Come here,” he commanded once more, a bit sharper and more full of intent. 

“I can’t. I can’t do this, Jean.” He wanted to. Every part of him begged to simply open up and accept that Jean-Claude wanted him. He pursued him because he wanted Harry. But. It wasn’t logical. It made no sense. Harry’s spine rippled when cool perfect fingers enclosed around his wrist. He was pulled, and the distance between the two vanished as Jean-Claude used his other arm to wrap around him. Skin on skin, and when Harry looked down he found that he was almost naked with only his shorts. He shivered when perfect lips pressed to his neck and dragged down. “J-Jean…” 

“Let go, mon belle.” He cupped Harry’s neck below his ear. 

“...” Harry’s breathing drew in sharp, a cloud of black and gray clouds formed around him as he tried to pull away only for the grip to remain ironclad. “... No. I’m scared, Jean, please don’t.” He was pulled effortlessly onto the bed, his back gliding across the fabric of silk sheets as Jean-Claude moved like a cat over him. A thumb circled along his chin, and down his neck. Harry’s eyes rolled at a sensitive tingle attaching itself to him as goosebumps played across his skin. Scared. He was too scared for this. He couldn’t. 

“Nothing to fear, mon belle. You are mien. All mien… I have missed you. I need you.” Jean-Claude’s voice had turned into a purr against his nipple, and Harry moaned before he could stop at the flick of a tongue. 

He couldn’t let this go further. He simply could not lose what little he had of Jean-Claude. “N-no, you don’t. I - I can’t risk it. Ngh! C-can’t. I’ll give you anything you want, but… not something that will have you going away.” 

“You are being rash, mon belle. You are imagining such silliness, it amuses me.” 

“Glad it amuses you…” Harry shuddered. “You don’t want me.” 

Jean-Claude hovered over him, those curls spraying around his perfect face and tickling at Harry’s chin and cheek. He smelled so nice. “How little you understand, mon belle.” 

Harry twitched. “No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand men, I never did understand women, and you are so far from understanding… I am not worth your time or your efforts. So please… no!” And through the haze of desire and lust, Harry pushed against Jean-Claude’s chest in an attempt to get him off. 

“Do not resist. It is futile to resist… I need some of your energy if I am to survive,” Jean-Claude explained, and Harry found himself distracted by his lips, the way they moved. How such a melodious sound could come out of them Harry didn’t know. He supposed a part of him was being a selfish ungrateful git, but he was scared, and when he was scared he couldn’t function. 

“Then take it, but don’t do it trying to seduce me!” Harry whined. 

“But seduction is energy, mon belle. It is a life-force simmering in me, and I haven’t fed for so long… I am hungering, mon belle…  _ Harry _ .” 

Hearing his name spilling from Jean-Claude’s lips had him freezing, his eyes searching up and down Jean-Claude’s beautiful face, and like a snap of fingers he began to morph. His face began to grow gaunt, sheet white edges and dark circles painted around his eyes, and Harry saw him as a skeleton. His beauty was almost lost entirely, the bounce in his curls had gone limp, the blackness bled dull, and his glow faded. 

“Jean?” 

Somehow, he began to realize that he was in a dream, and he was no stranger to life-like lucid dreaming. Jean-Claude moved backwards, sitting with his legs swooped behind him. One hand against the mattress. “Ah, mon belle, such a purity. It is something I am drawn to and unsure of what to do with.” He closed his eyes, and the perfect mouth went straight, tragic. 

Harry’s desire was stalled, and a sadness played around him as he managed to gather strength and sit up. If this was a dream, he could get a hold of it. He could control it. He reached out to Jean-Claude cupping the skeletal cheek, feeling the bone more than the usual silk skin. 

“Is Nikolaos doing this to you?” 

“Oui.” Jean-Claude dropped his eyes as though he were ashamed, and Harry scooted closer to the man. “Do not… you are right. I am but a skeletal figure. I am unworthy to be touched, to even think of spoiling you.” 

Harry snorted. “You are an impossible man, Jean.” He stroked across Jean’s cheek toward his ear, pushing the limp curls with no life aside. His heart bled feeling Jean-Claude trapped in a box, likely one that was wound with silver plated crosses. He was starving and suffering. 

His lips wavered, his eyes burned hot as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the vampire’s jaw. “Nothing you do will ever be unworthy as you so put it.” 

Jean-Claude met his eyes once more, and he frowned. “What has you so tearful?” 

“You! Idiot.” Harry scowled drawing closer. 

“You want to be closer to me now that I am - blemished? Imperfect?” 

“Jean-Claude and the word Imperfect simply don’t go together,” said Harry. “You are completely missing a key piece of information about me, Jean. I guess we really haven’t spoken about each other much.” Harry moved closer until their noses touched. “I don’t understand anything about desire or attraction. I don’t understand why I have been chosen by a man like you. I don’t know why you or Edward or anyone would even think I was worth a second notice.” 

“...” Jean-Claude looked at Harry in befuddlement. 

“It befuddles me in a way that I can’t begin to muddle through and figure out. I am just Harry. I was the boy locked away in a cupboard beneath the stairs with the spiders. I was the boy in ill-fitting hand-me down clothes who had frying pans thrown at his head. I was then thrown into a world that set me on a plinth because I was somehow important. I was somehow responsible for doing something so impossible. I was trapped in the same box as you were, except not so literal. I never had a choice, I never was allowed to see more than a few feet in front of me before I was yanked into a specific direction. I was alone and on my own, even if I had friends. I don’t know how to live, Jean. I’ve never had more than a single girlfriend when I was a kid. I never… I don’t understand… I don’t get-” Harry shivered when arms looped around him, and he was drawn face first into the slow rising of Jean-Claude’s chest. Harry snuggled into him, brushing his nose. “You are my first friend since I left, Jean-Claude. You mean a lot to me. So very much, and there is nothing I won’t do to help you. Nothing I won’t do to see you safe and free of Nikolaos. Just, be a little slower okay? I’m learning here. I’m like a puppy.” 

Jean-Claude squeezed him, chuckling softly against his ear. “You are a precious one, mon belle.” 

“If you need my energy, take some of it. But leave enough for me, I am planning to free you! Please, have faith in me.” It seemed he had to plead with both men. Being consistent was a good thing, right? 

“I always have faith in you. Your purity astounds me, drives me to pursue. Your words fill my heart, and make me feel whole. You are lovely.” He pulled Harry back, cupping his cheeks, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You are aware you are dreaming?” 

“Yes, I am very aware. I have been in many lucid dreams,” Harry informed looking at the exhaustion layered on Jean-Claude’s face. It was like the acting gig had come down, and he was seeing the man for what he was at his worst. He was being allowed to glimpse the hidden side, reserved for one person and maybe a mirror. 

“I will admit that I have never been in a nice dream before, so thank you for that.” Jean-Claude smiled, and it helped lighten his features, bringing back some of the seductive quality. Harry touched his face, running a finger up to his nose and around his tired eyes. “You will be free. I can’t fail with Edward on my side.” 

“Edward, should I not be jealous? Even from afar I can feel your stirrings.” 

Harry didn’t hide beneath a blanket of excuses for his actions. “Please don’t give it more energy than it deserves. Edward is Edward, and no matter the situation he will be who he is.” 

“You are just as confounded about him as you are of me.” 

“Both of you are very complex men for different reasons. It started as a rouse. It was always strictly professional. More like mentor and student, but we had to get our stories straight and things got out of hand, and even more out of hand when I smelled Zachary at the cemetery…” He paused for a moment to catch his breath. “And I don’t get it. But, don’t put too much energy into feeling second best. Nothing more than him taking the mickey out of me.” His eyes went cross, and Jean-Claude threw his head back and laughed. 

“Truly precious, I cannot deny feeling a bit of envy. He knew you first, and yet you claim I am your first friend?” 

“You are. I knew what I was meeting when I first spoke with Edward on the phone. You may have been weary of me trying to ruin what you’ve built, but at least you have more emotional depth than a teaspoon.” 

“Perhaps you are not wrong. I did fear for my community, but you astounded me in the first five minutes of discussion. You should never tell a strange businessman that your failings are in business. They may seek to use that.” 

Harry laughed and shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Draco wouldn’t have let you anyway. Only reason I didn’t just hand them over, and be done with it. Besides, I do want to see your community flourish.” 

“You call me perfect, but I am not the purity that sits in my bed, comforts me at my worst.” 

“I’m not perfect. I’m still having an issue with the whole rats are good guys thing,” Harry admitted side-eyeing Jean-Claude with a wince. 

“Oh? I wish to hear of this story… but I am drawing less and less energy every second we sit here. I can only project so much power before it dries.” 

Harry pushed closer until their chests touched, and he pressed a kiss to Jean’s nose. “Then borrow from me.” 

Jean-Claude nuzzled Harry’s chin and neck, hands gently gliding up and down the expanse of his back. “Do go, and if you get a chance, try something with blackberries.”

Harry tussled Jean-Claude’s curls. “You’ll be back to your shiny glow in no time.” 

“Ah, you speak and my heart weeps. I do believe in you, mon belle.”

Shakespeare would have loved this man, Harry thought, and he knew the dream was coming to an end when the arms around him began to fade along with the large cavernous room, and hushing silk sheets. 

A blink of black, and Harry was rolling in his bed alone. He creased his eyes open to the rays of sun that spilled into the room from two high paned windows that stretched across one side of the room. 

He could still smell Jean-Claude and brought his wrist to his nose. A rose scent of sorts twinged with a hint of lilac and something darker and unnamed. It was light and airy. 

If Rafael didn’t come through soon, he was going to change his plans. He tossed the cover aside, and for a second he wondered how he had come out of his shoes. He remembered falling asleep with them on, but that was soon forgotten as his phone rang. It was much nicer for it to go off after he’d woken. 

An hour later, Harry was sitting across from Edward sharing a pot of coffee between them and eating breakfast. “You do know you have better things to waste your energy on than shlepping for that fool of a boss of yours?” Edward queried over a heaping plate of eggs benedict, and roasted potatoes seasoned with only a little onion and spice. He had a side of homemade blackberry jam for the toast, keeping in mind what Jean-Claude had requested. 

He had already put together that Jean-Claude could get energy from him, and that also meant food would go to him too. It was like being pregnant. If Harry knew what being pregnant was like. Wow, he was a regular Virgin Mary. Impressive. 

Harry could swear that their whole relationship was built on death and food. His boss Bert had called to remind him of his appointment with Mr. Jensen; and if Harry hadn’t been so desperate to see that poor child back where she belonged, he would have begged Edward to make him a target. Hell, he’d have taken a contract himself out. 

“I know, but this is an exception I have to make. He will only do it now before he loses his nerve,” Harry sneered, and he must have impressed Edward with the quality. “If I don’t do it and tonight, he will chicken out, and the only other animator he trusts isn’t even in the area.” 

“Ah, you mean Anita, and you think I am finicky with people.” 

“No, you’re very pleasant to be around, whichever identity you’re taking on,” Harry laughed. “She has  _ one _ and she owns it. I kind of envy that about her. She takes no shit, and gives a ton back.” 

“But, I met you first,” Edward said smirking as he showed a row of perfectly straight teeth. Harry told him about Mr. Jensen, and how his daughter had committed suicide because he’d sexually abused her. “Fuck, and they let him raise her? Did he-?” Edward didn’t feel much if anything at all, but there were some lines that would even get Edward’s ire going. And while he always insisted he despised children as they were useless to him, when one became a victim or was targeted this man took extra pleasure in putting down whatever mark was on his list. 

“I didn’t raise her, and none of us knew until she was already out,” said Harry. “I do own part of the building. I can override should I really need to. No, he wanted her forgiveness. She wouldn’t give it, and he kept her.” 

“Damn.” 

“Yeah, I want her back at peace. It’s the only reason I’m doing this now.” 

“How’s your energy?” 

“It’s fine. I’ll be more than up for anything if Rafael calls.” He spooned some more blackberry jam, and sucked it right from the spoon.

“Is that why you’re eating like a horse?” 

“Yep. More food, more fuel.” 

“You have scored another point. I am impressed.” He wiped his mouth, and stood. “Just don’t get fat.”

Harry growled and chucked one of the salt shakers right at the man’s head causing him to laugh as it hit him in the back. “Bastard!” 

Harry hated hanging around the house, Edward had left sometime after noon, and here he was wasting time waiting on a call that might not come, and yes if Rafael did call and say it was on tonight he was going to drop everything. 

He decided to work out a bit in the gym he’d had installed in the basement. Edward taught him how to keep fit without pulling muscles. Being so slim, he had to work at it a little differently. At five o’ clock the phones started ringing causing Harry to run to catch it. 

It was Rafael, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Sounds like you were running.” 

“I was in the basement,” he answered. “I hate sitting on my hands.” 

“Tomorrow at seven. The Circus will be busy and there will be more of her daylight servants on the ground floor entertaining. It will give us two hours until dusk that way you can retrieve Jean-Claude. That is your main reason for this, correct?” 

“Yeah, second is to kill her. But, he comes first. Sorry.” 

“Don’t. You don’t mean it. I prefer your honesty. Do not be late. Let’s meet where you finished Aubrey. There are a set of tunnels that you can get through. I do hope your magic is still as impressive. You may have a war on your hands.” 

“I won’t disappoint. No matter what happens to me, when I set out to do something I get it done.” 

“Good. Until then.” Rafael hung up, and Harry let out a breath before deciding to spend his last couple of hours before dusk making some blackberry cobbler. It’d been awhile, and he was out of blackberries, but there was that Farmer’s Market on the outskirts of town not even a couple miles from where he lived. 

Seeing Iris Jensen’s grave no one could imagine the horror she might have lived through when she was alive. He could see her stone from the gravel road. It was a gorgeous expensive white marble, and sat on top was a large angel with spread wings. It’s hands were folded together in prayer. 

Edward was beside him leaning against the car, and between them was a crate of two clucking chickens. It was the only part of his job he didn’t like, but as long as he could do it without causing pain then Harry felt that the chicken served it’s life well. It was either that or on a dinner plate, and Harry wasn’t a vegetarian. 

A stretch of deep red clouds were rolling across the darkening sky, and night would soon take them over completely. Harry scanned the soft rolling hills. Edward had his arms crossed staring straight ahead and then looking upwards to the sky and back around. He was noticing all points of entry and exits. No car-lights in the distance, so no one was coming. “Maybe I should scout, I don’t like this.” 

“If he doesn’t show, I won’t waste your time, and you can think of this as a precursor to me calling in a hit on the bloody bastard,” said Harry bending down to touch his toes. He twisted his back around to get some limberness, and he heard a snort beside him. 

He looked over with his arms in the air, clasped together like he was doing yoga, but he’d never done yoga in his life. “What?” 

“Showing me that round ass of yours, hm?” Edward cocked his head, and Harry gulped quietly at the tiny leer. 

“If you want to see it. You need to ask.” 

“I don’t ask.” 

“Tell me then,” said Harry trying to keep the changing pace. “After being slammed to a tree, and not in the Edward-Style, I need a good stretch. I worked out some today, but you can only do so much in a basement.” After last night’s dream, he was trying hard to roll with the punches. He wasn’t sure how good he was at the whole rolling bit, but it didn’t hurt to try. 

Edward shook his head. “You’re beginning to get a bit bold, Little Raven.” 

“It had to happen sometime. I’m a fast learner.” 

“Point in your favor boy.” He made to move forward when a familiar rotten scent of apples traveled through the cooler than usual breeze. 

Harry straightened, and Edward grunted. “I smell it this time.” 

Clang!

Harry with his wand and Edward with his gun whirled around to see a ghoul jumping onto the hood of Harry’s car. 

“You didn’t notice it before?” 

“It shouldn’t be here,” said Harry. “This ground is concentrated and overflowing with Death Magic. It’s not corrupted either, and where are his friends? They don’t travel alone. It’s always a pack.” Harry flared his wand, and sent a fireball toward it causing the ghoul to squeal and jump away, scratching down the hood. “Ah man, Draco’s going to kill me!” 

“Why isn’t it doing anything?” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know. Normally, if you use fire they run as fast as they can. They don’t like it.” 

“How about a gunshot to the head?” 

“It’d scare them, but not as much as fire. It also won’t take them out.” 

“You’re quite informative, Animator. I’ve been hoping to meet you.” Harry turned, trusting Edward to have his back to see Zachary walking beneath the streetlight looking as though he were out for a casual stroll. “You’ve been a thorn in the Master’s side.” 

“Hello Zachary,” said Harry forcefully relaxing his shoulder. “Is it yours?” 

“How did you know my name?” 

“I’ve been watching you,” Harry grinned at the stiffening shoulders. No longer did he look so relaxed. “I know exactly what you are, and who you are.” 

“You have no proof.” 

“Oh, but I do, and I can’t wait to tell Nikolaos what proof I’ve got. I’m sure she’ll enjoy ripping you limb from limb.” 

Zachary let out a low snarl, and then he smirked cruelly. “It won’t work. You’re going to die tonight. Valentine failed, Aubrey disappeared to God knows where, and if I finish you off there is nothing you can do with your so-called evidence,” he spat. 

Edward sneered. “He’s rather chatty, isn’t he? Shall I shoot him?” 

“Shoot his Gris-Gris,” said Harry, and the second he said it, Edward fired causing Zachary’s eyes to widen, and he rolled swiftly taking one in the shoulder. 

“Grr, how the hell did you know about that?!” Zachary growled as he hid behind his ghoul. 

“A feather in the wind,” Harry sing-songed. “You are an amateur. You know nothing about sacrifice. I saw you that night with Theresa and Burchard. I smelled you following me from Theresa’s crime scene. I remembered you from your funeral.”

“Nikolaos wants you dead. For some reason you cause fear in her. It’s your fault Jean-Claude is currently locked away. She doesn’t like you,” Zachary tried to threaten, but Harry only smiled as he took a step forward, the ghoul began to whimper. Zachary hissed something at it, and it whimpered again, ducking it’s head. 

“She should be scared of me. She has no idea what she has met, and before Edward kills you allow me to tell you that you are mistaken if you think I am an animator. I am not an animator. I am a Necromancer. A real Necromancer, flesh, bone, and all.” 

Edward’s gun went off, Harry darted to the side to give him room. Zachary danced backwards as the ghoul between him and them howled with pain as it went rolling across the pavement. 

“You’ll pay for that! I hope you enjoy the gift I left behind.” And like the wind, Zachary ran. Edward knowing when it was a lost cause stopped shooting with a snarl. 

Ghouls began to appear, one by one until there were at least two dozen of the things skittering and rushing toward them. Edward fired off his gun causing a few to scatter only for two more to take their place. 

Harry was back on his feet, and began to fling a stream of fireballs from his wand, and two of them began to screech. 

“Got anything more powerful than that!” 

“I do, but you need to step back. I didn’t want to piss you off and leave you out.” 

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “I want my mark. Not to be eaten by ghouls.” He danced backwards giving him a wide enough berth. 

Harry took in a breath, and centered his magic, and as a couple ghouls began to rush he brought his wand arm up and like a lasso, he cried out. “ _ Fiendfyre! _ ” 

Great shapes of fiery dragons and beasts with heads the size of a car roared out, fire as hot as a volcano, and with a strong amount of intent and control the beasts of flames separated with an extraordinary amount of elegance and dived to cover every single shrieking ghoul until there was nothing left but a pile of smoldering sludge. 

Not even a rotting scent was left as the fire drenched and purified the area. Edward was wiping his face, the sweat pouring from all parts of him. He figured that Harry’s spell was about as close to a Christian hell as he would ever see on earth. 

“I’m man enough to admit, I am almost jealous. My flamethrower doesn’t come close to this,” Edward said watching the spectacle. 

Harry let up, and his hands dropped to his knees with deep gulping breaths. He too was covered in a film of sweat, and when he turned to look at Edward, the man was stunned to see that his pretty emerald green eyes were literally glowing, and even someone who only knew enough about magic to make him dangerous, saw something strong swirling around the young man. A great power that came with a great amount of destruction. 

“I knew you were worth the investment boy,” he remarked quietly as he crossed over. “You’ve outdone yourself.” 

“Did I impress you?” 

Edward’s lip twitched. “Is that what you were going for? Is this your way of flirting? If so, I am impressed that you thought so far outside of the box. It’s creative.” 

It sounded so stupid and so ridiculous that Harry didn’t flush or get embarrassed. He laughed loudly with a shake of his head. 

“I guess Jensen isn’t coming.” 

“Nope. But, the night wasn’t all wasted. It never is when there’s something to kill.” 

Harry straightened and rolled his neck. He knew he smelled like a pig, it had taken every ounce of control that he possessed to keep the Fiendfyre in check, and to prevent it from spreading near the car or the cemetery itself. 

“I’m still going to put a hit on him.” 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Customer perk?” Harry couldn’t help but egg on. 

He grinned wolfishly. “Something like that.” 

As they made their way back to the car, Harry ran his palm across the scratch. “I wonder if I can use magic to get that out. I really don’t want to hear Draco’s whining.” 

“If you can blast fire out of that little stick, I’m sure you can come up with something. Fuck, kid, I almost think you don’t need a gun.” 

“Almost?” 

“Not quite there yet. Still need to keep one on you.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it. But you know, I wonder what Zachary meant by a gift?” 

“Pack of ghouls? It’s rather romantic in some cultures.” 

“What cultures?” 

“Not a clue,” Edward admitted. “Why?” 

“Something is bothering me.” 

Edward had dropped the crate of chickens into the back of the car. They had gone very quiet during the attack. 

“I want to look at something.” He turned, and ran across the street causing Edward to glare and quickly follow. 

“Do you have to do that?” Edward hissed. “What if there are more out there?” 

“I don’t smell them, and I think even if he could control them there is no way after that spectacle they will come near us.” 

“I don’t like the chances you take!” he spat as they headed across the graveyard toward the marble statue that glowed. 

Harry smirked. “It’s not a chance when you’re beside me, right?” 

“Don’t get cocky,” Edward growled. 

“Sorry, Edward. I’m a bit delirious right now. I’ve had a rush of power.” He rubbed at his forehead, the slickness was beginning to dry and flake like skin. 

Iris Jensen’s grave was open with a long piece of wood over the top to prevent anyone or anything from falling inside. Edward circled the grave, noting the very young age in which she had died. Harry saw him quietly snarl, but pretended not to as he reached down and lifted the board. 

“I swear if he’s done something to her body…” Harry hissed coldly as he shoved it aside only to freeze when he stared into the grave. 

Edward stared back watching as everything closed off as Harry fell to his knees. A sick feeling removed the power high he’d been on, his stomach curled and the sound of ringing began to cloud him over. 

“No.” 

“Harry,” Edward’s voice was hollow and far away. 

Harry leaned forward as if to reach only for Edward to quickly snatch his wrist. “ _ No _ . Do not,” he breathed sharply. 

“Phillip.” 


	13. Chapter Twelve

#  Chapter Twelve

Harry sat resolutely in the passenger seat. A cold rush of wind hit them with the windows down, and the street-lights blurred into one solid sheet of white. Edward had taken the keys and was doing the driving. 

All he felt inside was a white blinding rage of fury. It laced him from head to toe as if he were a human torch being drenched in petrol. He sat ramrod straight staring at nothing, and yet seeing everything. 

He could feel his magic bubbling and tingling at the surface. He was so downright testy that if Edward wasn’t beside him he would go to the Circus of the Damned and burn the entire building to the ground. He could tear through them and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it. 

He was never one to break down into a puddle of tears or wallow when shit hit the fan. He didn’t do that when Sirius died. 

“You should eat.” 

“Okay.” His voice was clipped and yet flat. It had not a thread of emotion tinged into it, and it was one of those damn days when Edward’s face flashed concern. 

“Not going to barf on me are you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Good.” 

He appreciated Edward trying to add something amusing. Harry had never been known to go long without a smile or even a kind word. Edward always teased him about being too soft. To full of life for the chosen career path. 

He was now seeing what it looked like when Harry felt dead. 

Edward turned into a Denny’s restaurant, and shut the engine, and they were soon seated in the back. Edward faced all the entrances and exits as though they had been followed. 

He ordered a grilled chicken with cheese, and opted out of the greasy fries. It was probably best he not test it, and they sat there in a thrumming silence. Only a couple of patrons were milling about at the near midnight hour. 

Edward tapped his fingers. “Tomorrow?” 

“Yes.” 

“You won’t go in, magic blazing?” 

“I’m not stupid, Edward.” 

“No, but you are angry. I guess you’re also hurt.” 

“...” Harry raised his eyes to meet the blank blue ones. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. All that matters is that tomorrow they all burn.” 

Edward smirked. “Normally, I would approve of this Little Raven, but I think you might have been right last week when you said that there is one of me and one of you. I think we should keep it that way.” 

“I can’t act any other way, Edward. I’ve lost enough to know that crying and acting like a blubbering git won’t bring back what is gone. You were right. I am a hypocrite. I do not fear death. I do not fear death for other people. Probably why you and I get along. But, to put an innocent in the middle...” 

“I’m the wrong man to offer anything to you.” 

“I don’t want any offerings. You know that.” 

“No. You just want their heads.” 

“Fried and crispy.” 

“I can do that.”

“I want Zachary. I will kill him. I will make him feel pain.” Both went quiet when the waitress arrived with their food. 

Harry used some wandless magic to double check for anything that shouldn’t be there before they dug in. Harry ate mechanically pulling the yellow American cheese that melted on the side, and sucking on it. 

He tried to plan out what he was going to do tomorrow, but plans never really were something that Harry could do. He left it to Edward, but he had to do something, and shit - “Draco.” 

“What about him?” 

“What the hell am I going to tell him? Draco isn’t me.” 

“No, he’s a bit of a whiny shit. Why do you like him?” asked Edward with real curiosity. 

Harry placed the sandwich down and wiped his hands on a napkin. “I didn’t for seven years. I hated him. He hated me just as much. We were constantly at each other’s throats. His family were always on the other side. Pureblood purists to a near extreme. They were powerful and wealthy, they had name and status. They were also followers of Voldemort.”

“Where is the punchline?” 

Harry smirked. “They had everything, but when Voldemort returned everything was stripped from them. They were tortured and made into slaves in their own home. Voldemort didn’t treat his followers very good. He instilled fear rather than go out of his way to do anything to cement their loyalties.” 

“Sounded like a moron,” Edward grunted. 

“Yes. Draco was offered young as a Death Eater, and as much as Narcissa and Lucius were proud that was the last thing they wanted, especially Narcissa. Draco was so excited to walk that path. To crawl on his knees and kiss the Dark Lord’s robes.” 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“No.” He continued to talk, pulling the bun off the chicken and eating the tomato. He told Edward everything, which he normally would not do. It helped him focus. It helped his magic go back into a steady simmer. He told Edward about how they wanted out completely. How it was the father all along who had dragged them through the mud, and it was Narcissa who pulled them out. She saved his life, and in return a strange tentative relationship had been formed. It bloomed beyond into a real friendship. 

Edward settle back and looked at Harry sharply. 

“What?” he asked impatiently. 

Edward tore apart a fry to the white starchy inside. He popped it into his mouth and smirked. “Did I say something?” 

“No, but Merlin knows what is going on in that brain of yours. Am I stupid?” 

“He was a kid. All kids are stupid. It’s why they are useless. But, they are allowed to be stupid and useless. It’s what makes them useful when they become an adult. They realize their own uselessness so they do something to provide a usefulness.” 

“Charming.” Harry couldn’t help but smile. It was such an Edward thing to say and do. So practical. 

Edward had a look as though he’d accomplished something important, but what it was Harry would probably never know. “Always, Little Raven.” 

Just talking about mundane things helped Harry compartmentalize the situation as Edward had taught him years ago. It was a sad day when Edward the Muggle knew more about the basics of Occlumency than Snape the Wizard without ever knowing it’s term. He placed his true feelings into a box somewhere in his mind. He shoved it aside with a mental stamp. It would be released later. Right now, he had more things to do. He would avenge Phillip, and that was all the living could do once someone had died. 

oOo

“Mon belle, what has happened? You look ghostly!” 

Harry shivered when arms encircled him from behind, and he was pulled into Jean-Claude’s hard bare chest with a pair of lips brushing along his cheek and ear. 

He was back in the caverned room, but there was no bed this time. Instead they were on one of those luxurious French sofas. 

He knew he was back in a dream, but he relished it. To be free of the real world, and the ache that had developed. “I do believe you nearly overloaded me with the energy I felt pulse earlier.” 

Harry stared down at the sure hands that ran up and down his arms. He shifted so that he could look at Jean-Claude. He was still beautiful, but gaunt. Still lacking the glow, but his eyes held a fire in them. 

“Phillip.” 

“Oh, mon belle, I am sorry.” He stroked through Harry’s wild hair, and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I never wished to drag you into this world, what was I thinking?” 

“Don’t say that. I was never one for sitting around, and being bored,” he said dully. “I do wish Phillip hadn’t been involved, but wishing and hoping do not bring the dead back. Once this is over, will you have him buried? I’ll pay for it.” 

“Non, I will take care of all. He is my responsibility, mon belle.”

Harry reclined into him, shifting and resting his head along the man’s chest. He let his fingers circle the cross burn, and Jean-Claude took in a breath as he continued to pet Harry’s hair. 

“I am sorry I am not there in your time of need.” 

“You’re here now,” Harry breathed. “You’ll be free soon. I could have come tonight, and the Circus would have been nothing more than a pile of ash. My magic is not happy.” 

“No, I can feel the chaotic energy. It flows through your blood…” Jean-Claude let out a noise, and Harry raised his head to look into his eyes. 

“You’re hungry.” 

“I am fine. I have had worse. It is of no consequence. A few days is nothing to a few years.” 

“... You’ve been locked up for years?”

“It is the past, and it won’t be the future.”

For the first time whether dream or real, Harry circled his arms around Jean-Claude and pressed a kiss to the man’s chin. “Can you feed from where you are?” 

“Metaphysically I can but I will not.” 

“Why not? You need…” But fingers brushed along his lips to shush him. “Hey! Don’t hush me.” 

Jean-Claude smiled, and it made his eyes dance and look more lively. They were still shadowed with dark purple bruises, but he looked alive. He felt alive, no matter how thin he seemed to be getting. “If I am going to accept your generous offer to feast on your tender skin and blood, I will not do it in a metaphysical sense. At least not for my first time.” 

“You virgin,” Harry snarked causing Jean-Claude to chuckle. 

“Oh, mon belle!” He touched Harry’s cheek and hair stroking up and down. “You fill me with joy.” 

“Not when you’re locked in a box. How much energy is this costing you?” 

“It’s of no consequence.” 

“Liar.” 

“I am not.” 

“ _ Liar _ .” 

“Mon belle accuses me of such vulgarities!” Jean-Claude stretched them out across the sofa. 

“Mhmm.” Harry snuggled down into his chest. Jean-Claude sighed as he buried his nose into the top of Harry’s head. He closed his eyes and amazingly he could feel a faint heart beating slow. He counted the rhythm, and while it wasn’t much it was enough of a reminder that he wasn’t a figment. He wasn’t just a dream. He was a metaphysical reality, and had lodged deep in the trenches of Harry’s heart. 

He awoke to the scent of roses, and opened his eyes to the vaulted ceiling of his room. He could feel the essence of Jean-Claude all around him. It hugged him like a warm fur blanket. 

His raging heart and magic was calmed thanks to the lingering presence, and having the knowledge that tonight he was going to see Jean-Claude and avenge Phillip’s death had him pushing out of his bed. It was almost eleven. It’d been a while since he’d been able to get a full night’s rest. 

He tugged on a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of shorts before heading out to the kitchen. He could smell coffee brewing, and saw Edward sitting at the mahogany table methodically cleaning his guns. 

“You ready for tonight?” 

“Overdue.” 

“I bet.” 

“Draco come by?” 

“No.” 

Harry took a breath. “Good. I’m not ready to face him, and if I don’t see him that means I don’t have to tell him what happened until afterwards.” He set some ingredients out for the morning. 

Pancakes, bacon, and eggs. He would use the last of the blackberries to make a syrup as he saw Edward looking at them unimpressed. 

“What’s with you and blackberries?” 

Harry was feeling a bit devilish, and so as he poured the pancake mixture onto the hot griddle he grinned with his face away. “I’m feeding for two these days.” 

It had been perfect timing, Edward had taken a gulp of coffee only to spit out, and Harry held his mouth by a wrist as he snickered. “Say that again…” 

Harry skewed his face to seriousness and turned. “I’m feeding for two.” Edward’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not kidding. Jean-Claude gave me the second mark.” 

Edward placed his coffee down and leaned forward. “What does that mean exactly? How did he do it if he is locked up?” 

“I was close enough to his location at the Circus. He came to me in my dreams, and when I eat, he eats. It’s how he’s getting energy to keep from going insane. He’s in a cross-wired coffin,” said Harry sadly as he flipped the pancake. He admired the perfectly golden sheen. 

Yeah, he was a narcissist when it came to cooking. 

“And you are okay with this?” 

“I don’t have a choice if I want him alive and sane,” said Harry. “You and he are my only friends, not counting Draco. I’d rather not be down another one.” 

Edward made no remark. Perhaps, he knew when to leave well enough alone or he had nothing to say. Maybe he didn’t give a shit so long as Harry remained useful. It didn’t really matter. 

“You are aware that if he dies there is a good chance you will too,” said Edward when Harry placed a perfect plate in front of him along with real maple syrup. 

Harry had his own, and flopped down plate in hand. “Death is nothing new to me, Edward. I am not afraid of dying.” 

“...” Edward observed him. “What do you fear?” 

“Fear,” answered Harry. 

“What qualifies as fear to you?” 

Harry half smiled. “Living. Death is very easy.” 

“You don’t believe in heaven and hell?” 

“No. I believe there is this world and an afterlife. An afterlife with Death.” 

“You used a capitalization. You could be referring to me.” 

“You are the human Death,” said Harry smirking. “I’m talking more of the Metaphysical.” 

“You believe in the robe and scythe?” 

“Maybe. It helps that I have died.” 

Edward dropped his fork at this and raised his head. “Excuse me?” 

“I died. I died when I was seventeen.” 

“That’s what you meant when you exploded back at the fuck party.” 

“Yes. I died. I walked right up to Lord Voldemort. I looked him in the eye, and I let him kill me. Just like he did my mum, my dad, and so many others. I died. I had a train to catch. It wasn’t heaven and it wasn’t hell. It was a train. I was going to move on, but then I refused. I was not done. I came back. So no, Edward, I do not fear death. A heaven is what you make in the living, and a hell is the very same thing. It is your choice until that last breath what you do with it. I mourn for Phillip who could not live in anything but a hell that was forced upon him as a child. I mourn for what he must have went through in his final moments. But, he is at rest. He doesn’t have to deal with it ever again.” 

“Sunday school lesson has now ended.” 

Harry snorted. “Pass me the coffee.” 

Edward did, and they ate in a comfortable silence. Harry hadn’t known it then that the chain around his neck began to glow subtly; Edward noticed. 

It was about three hours to dusk, Harry and Edward had prepared for a war. Harry was wearing a loose pair of boot-cut jeans that hung at the edge of his hips held by a black leather belt. He grabbed a dark long-sleeved green shirt. So dark it looked nearly black. His wand was already in his hand, and loosely held at his side. He had a gun on one hip, another in his boot, and a long silver curved sword hung on a hanger strapped to his back that he had charmed to look invisible. It would be easy grabbing it should he need it. He led the way to the clearing where he’d killed Aubrey. 

Edward was standing beside him arms loose at his side. Harry saw them first, which wasn’t usually the case in any stake-outs. He recognized Rafael, the tallest and most broad of the bunch. Beside him was a well aged woman with strict graying hair, and behind him were eight others. 

“You look much better than when I last saw you. Let me see your shoulder!” the woman stepped with the short hair stepped forward and was already pawing at his once injured shoulder. 

“Doctor, I presume?” 

She smirked, and Harry let her see the shoulder. Her eyes widened. “It’s healed! Fully, bone in tact and all! Look at this Rafael!” 

“I see, Lillian,” Rafael drawled looking Harry over, and then eyeing the man beside him. 

“Hello Rafael,” said Harry with a small smile. 

“Harry.” 

Rafael didn’t bother to ask Edward’s name, not that Edward would give it, but after a swift round of introductions aimed at Harry, two of the men in tow produced helmets with lights on them. “You’re going to want to wear these. Are you sure about this?” 

Harry tilted his chin. “Yes,” he said as his eyes crystalized with a hardness. 

Lillian tilted her head. “You lost someone. Don’t tell me, Jean-Claude?” 

Rafael straightened at this, and Harry shook his head. “No. A man named Phillip. It was an attack against me. I’ve never been more ready in my life. You do not hurt my friends and get away with it.” 

“Can we get the show on the road?” Edward drawled. He would be having words with Harry for saying too much. Anything he said could be used against him later. 

“I think we should.” 

Harry didn’t argue with the hat and took it from a man named Louie. He was a cheerful smaller man, and Harry was getting a lesson in what it meant to be a real wererat. 

Edward and Harry were lead to the mouth of an age-old cave. Louie had told him that it was a dead cave; and after a brief explanation, one in which Rafael cut them off, he ordered them to wear their hats and not turn on the light once they’d entered. Edward didn’t like that, and kept his chest to Harry’s back as they were bathed in a thick plume of darkness. 

He could hear rustling and shifts, and he supposed that they were all shapeshifting into their forms, which Harry hadn’t realized when he stiffened up instinctively. Rats. He was going to see a real Wererat. He had to get over seeing Pettigrew. He closed his eyes even if it was dark, and he hunted down his center focus. He drew up what few shields he had in regards to Occlumency, and he almost jumped when Edward’s hand pressed to his shoulder. 

“You can turn on the light now,” Rafael’s voice drifted over him, and Edward’s was the first light to flicker. Harry was second. 

There standing in the light were a dozen or so shapeshifters. Not only were they of varying sizes, but all were fuzzy with long winding tails, and beady dark eyes. The men wore cutoff jeans, and the women wore dresses. It was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. 

“Do we disgust you?” asked Rafael. 

They must have good night vision. “No, I’m committing a new memory,” said Harry turning to meet Rafael’s eyes. 

“A new memory?” Lillian prompted. “You have seen a wererat?” she asked. 

“Not exactly a were. In my world some humans can shift without the blood. It’s in the magic,” said Harry. 

“Truly? I must hear more about this incredible anomaly!” Louie declared. Harry thought he was rather cute. 

Definitely not Peter Pettigrew types. He didn’t think they’d appreciate his thoughts, so he kept a lid on it. He could feel Edward’s hot breaths on his neck. He wasn’t happy. He wanted to get going. 

“I promise to later if you like. My dad could shift into a stag,” he said cheerfully. 

“And he wasn’t bitten or turned?” 

“Not at all.” 

“If there is a later,” Rafael intoned. 

“There will be. If I die, it will not be at her hand,” said Harry in such a tone that he was absolutely sure of himself. 

He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he had garnered a lot of respect from the weres surrounding them, and soon they were marching their way through tightly packed rock. It was dry and suffocating. Harry hated tight spaces, and he saw why Rafael brought a small army. They had to dig through cracks, knock down large boulders. 

Their hard hats protected their heads as pebbles and small boulders sometimes dropped. Edward wasn’t having a fun time as at one point they had to get on their stomaches and crawl. As they crawled along Lillian, the doctor who was hoisting medical supplies on her back turned her long fuzzy nose toward Harry. “So, what memory is it that you are trying to erase, green eyes?” 

“Lillian,” Rafael warned up ahead. 

“You know how the cave is, King. It’s so long and full of twists and turns, and with two humans we have about two hours before getting anywhere. No reason for no conversation.” 

“I’d like to hear the story! I want to hear more,” Louie said somewhere nearby. 

“Is that even possible?” asked another somewhere behind them. 

“My world is full of magic. It is different to the ones you know. Men are wizards, and the women are witches, and it is in our blood from birth. My father, godfather, and a friend of theirs all became what is known as animagus. It is the ability to transform into an animal through magic. A type of Transfiguration.” 

“Altering the mass and density to change an object into something else, I have heard of the theory,” admitted Louie. 

“Yep. It’s done with magic. Anyway, one of my parents friends betrayed them, and sent them to their deaths. That same man went on to frame my godfather, and then decided to live with a little boy until he was discovered when I was thirteen. It’s just a raw memory, and I want it replaced.” 

“You left a lot out.” 

“I can hear Rafael’s annoyance from here.” Everyone nearby snickered, and Rafael let out a grunt. “Anyway if you are interested I can get you a book Louie.” 

“I would love that! I appreciate it, Harry. Once we get out of here let’s exchange numbers?” 

“You got it.” 

He could hear Edward snort behind him as they continued their movements. All was quiet except for the rubble and skittering. A few of the rats brushed up against him. One nosed at him. He could hardly move his head in any direction as turning to the side offered him a chance to strike his nose or lick the rocky wall. 

“You are chatty tonight,” Edward breathed from behind. “You and I need to talk about that.” 

“I’m making friends.” Most of the weres could just feel his pout. Edward made a noise of being unimpressed. 

“You should remind him that talking of personal details can get him in trouble,” Rafael’s voice sounded, and Edward grunted. 

“You try talking to a wall and see how far it gets you.” 

“I object to being called a wall. Surely, I am not that boring.” All the others snickered. 

“Oh, I have plenty of names to call you, Little Raven,” Edward spat. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Spoilsport.” He continued to belly crawl up and up and up. 

Harry’s lower back was starting to stretch and burn in places. Only a few times they would see a section with a high enough ceiling where they could stand. Edward seemed very relieved when these came about, and soon enough a very dim strip of light was up ahead. 

They were getting closer, Harry’s heart began to beat. Somewhere beyond this tunnel lay Jean-Claude, and by Merlin he was not leaving without him. 

Rafael was soon crouching beside them, Harry drew himself up against the wall, Edward mimicking - both sighed as the ache dulled with their sitting position. All the rats were hanging back just a way. Harry could see them some of their eyes glinting and looking particularly at Harry. 

“How old are you?” asked Louie finally. 

“Not now, Louie,” Rafael muttered. “This is as far as we go,” he told them. “You’re on your own from here.” 

Harry nodded. “I understand.” 

“I hope so. I hope I did not lead you into death.” 

“You can turn back!” said one of the female rats. 

“I can’t do that,” said Harry. “You want to be free of her too, right?” Everyone nodded. “Then please for the moment have a bit of faith in me.” 

“You always request that…” Edward grumbled. 

“And have I proved you wrong, ever?” he challenged. 

Edward didn’t bother to answer. Silence was enough. 

“If all is clear we will provide aid should you need it,” said Rafael waving a paw toward Lillian who had her bag in her arms. Harry turned to look at Rafael crouched over him. Both were close, Harry could almost feel his nose against his cheek. 

“What is it?” asked Rafael as if he was reading Harry’s mind. “I am in a mood, so I will grant you a last request should you not make it.” 

Harry’s eyes glimmered. “Can I touch you?” He felt Edward shift, but otherwise didn’t look back. 

“Depends on where.” 

“Just the nose.” 

“Fine.” 

Harry did. He was soft, and he stroked up the muzzle of the sheer black coat. “Thank you.” Rafael only stared at him.

“Are you ready?” Harry turned to the man beside him. 

“Hn.” Edward’s jaw was tight, but he nodded, and Rafael shifted to let them get passed toward the light that awaited them. 

Soon enough, Harry and Edward were climbing through an opening that lead into a low ceiling dungeon. It smelled old and metallic. A set of torches illuminated the cavern making it incredibly bright, so much so that he could make out the definition in a nearby spider web. 

Edward was cradling an Uzi that hung on a strap across his chest. Harry had the Elder Wand. It was all he needed, the others were tucked away on his person. Edward didn’t like it and had tried to offer him a shotgun. But Harry reminded him of the Fiendfyre he cast, and he was given a little leeway, but not before Edward strapped on a brand new derringer that apparently kicked like a bitch, but one upshot would take a head off. 

It was still daylight as far as he could tell, but it wouldn’t be for long. Harry’s first priority was Jean-Claude. Even if he had to somehow get him out of the Circus in a coffin he would do it. Nikolaos was a second priority with Zachary and Burchard right behind. He and Edward had argued about it for some time, but Harry was so sure that Jean-Claude, while younger, was still stronger than that bratty pipsqueak. He would be awake. In fact, a few times he had to have been awake subconsciously in the day because Harry was asleep when they met in those dreams. 

As they reached a door along the rows of cells coated in iron, they passed through an ante-chamber after Edward gave him a nod, ready to shoot anything that moved. It was an empty room. Harry took a deep breath noticing the scent of cleansers in the air. As if something had been scrubbed. 

He didn’t want to imagine it. He was ever so glad that Edward stopped Harry from touching Phillip. He probably wouldn’t have been able to get him off his hands otherwise. 

As they slipped out of the dungeons down a corridor to a huge room that looked as though it could have been a throne room, Harry recognized that the walls reminded him of his dreams with Jean-Claude except without the tapestries. 

Harry breathed in. He had to be nearby. Somewhere close. It seemed easy. Too easy. 

He scanned the row of closed coffins. They were all spaced around on raised platforms so that they didn’t sit on the floor in the draft. A tall gleaming iron candelabra burned in the room, and one at the head of each coffin. 

“Why do I feel like this might be set up for us?” He was whispering, in case someone was awake that shouldn’t be. 

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “You think so?” 

“I’m channeling you right now. Where is Burchard? Why isn’t he watching over her?” 

“Unless she isn’t here. I want my mark.” 

“You will get her. Before the end, she will be here. She won’t be able to resist.” 

“I’m looking forward to the meeting,” murmured Edward adjusting his gun. “Let’s find your beau. I hope he’s in good enough shape after all the feedings you’ve given him. You’ve been eating yourself out of a house and home.” 

“Shut up!” Harry huffed. 

“Hey, it’s not my money you’re eating through.” 

It smelled stale like a basement that hadn’t been used in a long time. The first two coffins they carefully pried open were empty. They probably belonged to Valentine, Theresa, or Aubrey. 

Edward opened one to reveal a dark skinned vampire. Harry didn’t stop him from shooting a needle full of silver nitrate into his neck. Harry never objected whether they were innocent or not, because honestly? He didn’t want to see Edward’s death stare on him. He wasn’t that stupid, and this vampire was probably someone important to Nikolaos.

Harry didn’t think Jean-Claude was in here at all, and both agreed to avoid the smaller white coffin sitting upright. It was a trick. A clear and sound trick as they carefully moved around.

Harry and Edward inched toward the door on the left instead of the one ahead of them. Harry’s thinking that if it was the punishment room and there were patrols it would be close by for easy access.

Both did their best to keep eyes on as many entrances and exits as possible. No more coffin hunting in the room until they found Jean-Claude that had been Harry’s ultimatum, and though Edward didn’t like it. He agreed. 

Harry tried a few sensor spells that he knew of, and then pressed his ear to the door to try and listen. He should have brought an extendable ear. It would have been perfect for this. He heard nothing and looked once at Edward who nodded, and very carefully Harry slipped inside. 

It was a room full of torture for any vampire. Crosses hung high from the ceiling, large ones and they were dripping in what looked like holy water. Not only that, but each of the coffins around the cavernous room had crosses encircling it along with silver chains to keep the lid from opening. 

After this, Harry would never complain about his cupboard again. 

He opened the first in swift succession a man wearing an ugly bright green jacket lay inside. Harry thought he saw him once before at Guilty Pleasures. He wasn’t a good looking man, and reminded him of one of those car salesmen on the telly. 

“Let’s leave these alive,” said Harry skirting to each coffin. In case they were Jean-Claude’s followers he didn’t want to risk them dead. Several were empty, and of course it was always the last one. 

Harry was quick to sever the chains, and tore off the blessed cross with a fling. 

“Anita would not approve,” Edward whispered looking around him swiftly. “Hurry up!” 

“I’m not Anita,” Harry reminded as he carefully opened the coffin lid. “Edward…” 

“What?” 

“He’s not here.” 

Edward’s eyes narrowed as he crossed over to stand beside Harry. “He might be deeper inside.” 

“No, it’s his coffin. I can smell him.” 

“Let’s find her. Find her and we find him,” said Edward with a deep breath. “Come on, that’s what we should have been doing. Why you have to make me soft, I don’t know. But you and I are going to sit down and chat about how much information you give strangers.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was cold and harsh. 

Harry said nothing as he headed back toward the main coffin room.

“Freeze!” shouted a childish voice that started giggling. 

Harry and Edward made for their gun, but Burchard stepped forward in warning. “I would advise you not to go for your gun.” He had a semi automatic rifle in his hand pointed right at them. 

“Yep, and for you witch boy if the gun isn’t enough, pretty boy gets it!” Nikolaos grinned as she reached down behind one of the coffins, her tiny hand fisted a mass of curls and with a ridiculous amount of strength she dragged Jean-Claude toward her. He was tied and bound in silver chains. It was obviously causing him pain. He could see vicious red burns littering parts of his skin. His eyes wide-open with not a speck of fire, and yet they stared at Harry. Harry drew a breath. He discarded the magnum instantly, but Edward was still holding his. 

“I will rip his head off,” Nikolaos cooed. 

Zachary had slipped into the room, holding a pistol with both hands. His arms were stiff, and Harry’s eyes raked him over as he drew on enough magic making the green shade amplify. Zachary shuddered minutely. Nikolaos was too enthralled with her catch of the day to notice, and Burchard was already moving toward Edward. 

“Drop your weapons, please, and lace your fingers on top of your heads,” he ordered. 

Even Edward wasn’t about to tempt fate. At least not until his mark was met, and they did exactly as they were told. Harry used a subtle amount of magic with Jean-Claude as a focus. His eyes never leaving the man as Burchard started with Edward. He made it so that the sword hidden on his back would carefully slide and move. 

Nikolaos snapped at Zachary to check over Harry. 

“You let him touch me, and I don’t care how you kill me,” said Harry. “Give me Burchard.” 

“Oh, you interested in my human servant, little boy?” 

“I won’t let him burn. You have my word. He is human after all.” 

Nikolaos’ eyes narrowed, and Zachary was glaring at Harry. “Why don’t you want him to touch you?” 

“He’s a shit of an Animator that’s why,” said Harry casually. “Would you let a shitty vampire touch you?” he reasoned and Nikolaos snorted. 

“Fine! Burchard, looks like you’re working extra hard tonight. Zachary step back.” 

“I can search him,” growled Zachary. 

“I said step back!” Nikolaos roared and flinching, the ‘thing’ that Zachary was, stumbled backward away from Harry. 

Burchard had discarded all of the weapons and tossed them in one of the coffins. Zachary slammed it closed, and he moved with an intention toward Harry. “You know I will be more thorough.” 

“Least you said please.”

Burchard’s lip twitched, but he didn’t smile as he began to search. Harry kept his magic focused, using it to slide the sword around. At one point it slid into his pant leg, which was very uncomfortable. He let Burchard discard the guns and most knives, but he didn’t notice the wands, thanks to the holsters being invisible.

Finally, Nikolaos seemed pleased and told Burchard to step back. She stepped forward with much more confidence. “I am far older than anything you have ever imagined. Did you really think daylight holds me prisoner? After a thousand years?” 

She angrily left Jean-Claude on the floor as she stalked over to the remains of the dark skinned vampire lying dead in the coffin. “Which one of you killed him?” 

“I did,” said Edward. “It was so easy.” He didn’t flinch or groan when Nikolaos’ small hand struck him across the face sending him flying across the room. 

“You will pay for that! And you, who are you responsible for?” 

“Absolutely no one. You targeted me. I did nothing to you.” 

“You insulted me.” 

“I did as you asked. Jean-Claude did as you ask.” 

“Jean-Claude wants my crown, and he’s using you, little witch. Did you not notice?” She stalked toward Harry and glared up at him. “I thought you were smarter, but I guess you are affected by looks.” She was aware that he could burn her, and so she did not touch him. But she was close, very close. 

“I don’t think ribbons and bows are Jean-Claude’s style,” said Harry in a straight voice causing her to shriek indignantly at him. She moved to strike, but Burchard called out in warning, and she stopped before the blow could smash into Harry. “You kill us and the true culprit behind the vampire murders will never go away.” 

Nikolaos glowered. “I’ll find another, maybe invest in that woman that’s being talked about. Burchard! Bring them to the throne room. I have a treat for them.” Harry quietly eyed one of the knives discarded on the floor, and sent it sliding across the room, and only stopping when it reached Jean-Claude. If his knives were magically strong enough to cut through bone, they could cut through chain. 

No one seemed to notice as Burchard hauled Edward to his feet, and pushed him roughly. Harry didn’t need to be pushed, Zachary was glaring at him. 

“Don’t,” he hissed. 

“Don’t what, Zachary?” asked Harry sweetly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the knife he’d slid to Jean-Claude was gone. Burchard reached for Jean-Claude grabbing him by the chains and forcing him to his feet. 

He staggered as he too was pushed. “Pretty boy needs some entertainment,” Nikolaos grinned. “I can smell and see the marks on you, little witch. Maybe you would be more useful alive… I could take you over.” 

“You have to have permission to touch me.” 

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” she said stopping in the throne room and whirling around so that her dress swirled with her like a little girl getting ready for church. She was grinning at him. Her cheeks rosy and delicate looking. 

She was the picture perfect image of America’s sweethearts except for the fangs and the deadly gleam; oh and the strength to throw a full grown muscle man across a room. 

He had to get the tables turned. He had to get in position. If he made one wrong move not only was Edward as good as dead, but Jean-Claude too. It pained him to see all the cuts and bruises, to see him so still and white as death. 

“Why did you kill Phillip?” Harry asked trying to buy time. 

Nikolaos turned and stomped her foot. “He refused to tell me anything about you! How dare that spineless whore of a human not answer to me! You brainwashed him! In fact, he even took a knife to his own throat for you! He was whining and crying about how you believed in him,” she sneered. “I knew then I had to get the pretty one under control before it got worse! How dare he choose you over me!” 

Suicide. It may seem harsh, but he died a martyr, and it hurt to hear. But, at least they didn’t get the pleasure. “He stuck a knife deep into his throat and he choked on his own blood!” She spat into his face. She smelled of blood and something sweet. It was kind of on the nauseating side. “You killed him. Not me. How does it feel, little witch?” 

“Good. If his final act was to stand up to the likes of you, then I think he died happy,” said Harry boldly to her surprise. 

“Death is not happy!” Nikolaos growled. She was on the verge of a real tantrum now.

“Oh, but it is. You see, when Death has a master it respects, it tends to get happy. And when Death is happy, good things come to the natural order.” 

“What the hell are you spewing?” Zachary growled. 

“Death is here. He is here in this room. He’s watching every move you make, and Death’s master is merely waiting.” By now, Harry was being a bull-shiter of all bull-shitters. He was spouting a veritable amount of nonsense. 

He saw the shadow of Burchard move slightly as if taken off guard, Nikolaos was glaring up at him, and Zachary gun hand was shaking. 

Good. It was working. For now. 

Harry’s face never changed, and he allowed the magic to coat his eyes some more causing her to stagger slightly. Burchard was beginning to get rattled, and Zachary was already scared shitless. Perfect. “Master…” 

“Shut up, Burchard!” she roared shaking from head to toe in rage. “Never have I ever been so undermined! I won’t allow it. I will see you drained of every ounce of toxic blood you possess!” She grabbed the pistol from Zachary’s weak grip with both small hands, pointed, and pulled the trigger. 

As the bullet exploded from the pistol there was a shift and black springy curls clouded Harry’s vision, and chaos ensued as Nikolaos emptied the chamber. It was all in slow motion because so many things happened at once, Jean-Claude remained standing long enough before slowly dropped to his knees after taking the bullets meant for Harry. 

Heart racing, Harry flung a knife toward Edward who snatched it and reacted with impressive speed, shoving it cleanly into Burchard’s jugular ripping through the bone with a crunch. 

For Harry, he withdrew the sword that he’d kept and swung. Nikolaos let out a frantic shrill, Harry took a vicious swipe. She grabbed it with her small hand before it could make contact with her head. Her own blood began to spurt as it sliced open her hand, staining her pink dress as she ripped it from his grip and threw it behind her with a clang.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” She lost all reason and rushed him, and it was exactly what he wanted. 

Harry’s wand was out. He filled his body with as much hatred and anger as he could muster, and he lashed out. “ _ Crucio! _ ” 

Nikolaos was thrown off her feet and the most terrifying childlike screams wrenched her body as she began to flail and twist. Harry’s eyes became brighter as she thrashed and rolled. His own blood rushed as the dark magic oozed and tingled around him, brushing across his skin like silk. All he could think about was her hurting. Her coiling and twisting, foam pouring out of her mouth as she choked, screaming so high that it could break glass. He watched with a sick sort of pleasure as Nikolaos convulsed. 

“ _ Death has arrived for you Nikolaos. _ ” As he said this he walked closer. He muffled her screams with a wandless silencing spell, and stepped over to the thrashing child. Her eyes were rolling around in her head as he seized the front of her blood soaked dress and brought her pained body to him as he released the torture curse. Noises were in the background that he washed out as he kept focused on the little girl who was aware of him. Aware of his voice. She was frozen now. “You see, the Master of Death is a quiet sort of being,” he said softly unaware of the glow that pulsed within his shirt. “He does not like to interfere. He does not like to mess with the order unless there is a cause. He is benevolent, and he tries so hard, but Death. Death has absolutely no compunction to do what it wants. You are an affront to that order, child. You should not exist. You are a thousand years too old and insane to exist in this world.” He dropped her, and she fell like a rag doll. 

He didn’t have to see that the whole fight was over as he stepped back with deep ragged breaths. A swing came from around Harry, and Edward crunched down as he sliced through Nikolaos’ neck. He used such a force that as it struck through, her head began to roll. 

Zachary was pinned to the wall, and his eyes glimmered back to a gentleness when he saw that it was Rafael holding him by the throat completely immobile. 

Behind him, he could see Lillian was hunched over Jean-Claude. Surprisingly, the handsome vampire was moving slightly. 

“You want to kill him?” asked Rafael through the silence that hammered down on the room. 

Harry looked at the terror on Zachary’s face. 

“You can’t kill me! Even if you chop my head off, I’ll come back!” Zachary cried truly full of terror. 

“Destroy his Gris-Gris,” said Harry flatly. “Phillip killed himself because he wouldn’t submit. That’s the best news I’ve heard.” 

All the power seemed to wash out of Harry right then. Rafael did exactly as Harry told him, and Edward finished with a bullet between his eyes. Harry saw that his world was safe. At least as safe as it could be for now, and he let darkness sink behind his eyes as he fell on his back to the ground. The glowing chain of the Deathly Hallows around his neck flew out of his shirt, and continued to pulse a verdant green before fading back to normal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. I'll likely post that tomorrow morning or afternoon, and then we are onto book 2. I need to confer with Kim when she returns. Just a warning for those who haven't read the Anita Blake series. The first two books are quite tame compared to the rest of them. I'll be adding warnings where they need to go, but yeah... anyone reading Anita Blake series should not be surprised by the future events of things. 
> 
> Anyway, Happy Holidays everyone!


	14. Chapter Finale

#  Chapter Thirteen

A pale strip of light across a familiar small warehouse ceiling brought the world back into focus when his eyes opened. He could hear the sounds of beeping and buzzing monitors; as well as the flipping of a page. He was lying on a hospital bed and he recognized where he was instantly. He was in the wererats makeshift clinic. He turned his head to see Edward sitting on a chair. His feet propped up on the metal rail of the bed, and he was reading a magazine. No surprise it was a Guns & Ammo latest issue. He had no expression and his cool blue eyes remained blank as he flipped another page. 

“Do you need a wallet size picture, Little Raven?” He didn’t look over as though he were thoroughly invested in what he was reading. 

“What? So that it could stare at my arse for the rest of my life?” 

“If that’s what you use it for. Once it’s handed off, I have nothing to do with it.” Finally, he lowered the booklet and raised his eyes. 

“Jean?” 

“Useful toy you have there. He is well and alive. I planned a very long and wordy lecture, but perhaps making friends comes with a few perks.” He dropped his boots to the ground and leaned forward. “You okay?” 

“I think so,” said Harry as he managed to sit up. He rolled his neck, and looked down at the needle in his arm. “How long have I been out?” His mouth was as dry as sandpaper. 

“Four days.” 

“Shit. Draco?” 

“I do believe your vampire toy handled it.”

“You don’t like him do you?” 

“I don’t like anyone.” 

Harry turned on the useless puppy dog eyes. “You like me?” 

“Hm, I guess I have to,” said Edward smirking. “Somehow, we got out alive. I’m not so sure I want you to be my master, but you improvise well.” 

Harry let out a choke. “I was working on the fly, Edward. It’s kind of a fairy-tale story from the magical world, and so I twisted it. You know little girls, scary stories, and all that rot? I thought if I could unsettle her enough I could distract her.” 

“It worked.” 

“You got your kills.” 

“You got your toy, and I suppose you did get some closure.” Edward stood right then, tucking the magazine under his arm and adjusted his jeans. “I’ve been here four days too long. I have another gig to be getting to. You’re alive. Can you get home in one piece or will you collapse again?” 

Harry’s heart burned. Part of him didn’t want Edward to leave, but he knew that the man would come and go as he wished. He wasn’t here for Harry. He was here to make sure his invested interest didn’t go to waste. 

Harry could live with that. “I’m fine.” 

For the briefest second, Edward did not move. The corners of his eyes crinkled and then. “Good. Keep in touch, and don’t get yourself in trouble until I get in town next. You bring a lot of fun with you.” He tapped the metal rail before turning on his heel. 

Harry closed his eyes and settled back as a door shuddered closed with a loud clang. He groaned as he felt his bladder fill to capacity. He reached over and ripped the IV from his arm. He’d apologize to Lillian later, and shuffled himself off the bed. It was then that he realized that he was dressed in a pair of emerald green silk pajamas. 

Harry didn’t have pajamas. He often fell asleep fully clothed, naked, or just a pair of underwear depending on the state of his exhaustion. 

He hissed at the cold concrete, and did a funny dance at the same time trying to keep his balance. He looked around in hopes of a loo somewhere around. 

“On your left.” 

Harry whipped his head around to see Rafael having slipped in quietly. He was wearing a dark button down shirt that was open as usual, and a pair of black cut-off jeans. 

“Cheers!” He beamed, and made his way as fast as he could, unaware of Rafael staring at his back.

He splashed water on his face, and took care of all his needs before coming out to see Rafael sitting where Edward had been though he didn’t look as relaxed. He was sitting up, large hands on his thighs. His eyes watching Harry’s every move. 

“Lillian will not be pleased you ripped the IV out.” 

“Sorry, I really had to go,” Harry said ducking his head sheepishly. Rafael pushed down the metal rail so that Harry could sit across from him. His feet dangled off the floor as he did. 

“You killed Nikolaos.” 

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t. Edward did.” 

“No. You did it,” said Rafael. “What was all that back there?” 

“A stall tactic,” Harry told him. 

Rafael’s eyes continued to stare into his own. “Are you sure about that?” 

“I’m positive! I was talking nonsense.” 

“Even nonsense has a veil of truth.” He then boldly reached over to Harry’s silk button down, and lifted the chain not even wincing at the feel of silver, and brought it out. “It glowed.” 

Harry looked down at it. “Seriously? But… it’s only a fairytale!” 

“You really believe that.” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I mean everyone was so terrified of Nikolaos, and all I really saw was a stupid little girl with technically a child brain so I told her a story.” 

“Where did you hear this story from?” 

“My world. It’s called the  _ Tale of the Three Brothers _ . Story goes that a group of three brothers evade Death using their magic, pissing him off a good deal. He’s all about natural order you know? So he decides to get back at them. He presents each of the brothers with a powerful item. He crafted a wand for the eldest, with hair taken from his own steed and made of an immortal wood. He crafted a ring for the middle brother so powerful that it could call back the dead. For the third brother who was the youngest, Death ripped a piece of his own shroud, and handed it over to him. It was an invisibility cloak. In the end, two of the three brothers died because they abused those powers, but the third was smart and hid beneath the shroud where he even eluded Death until he was old and ready to die, and then walked into his open arms and was greeted like an old friend.” 

He was surprised that Rafael hadn’t spaced out looking bored. Instead, he looked intrigued. “And that symbol?” 

“It’s supposed to be a sign of the Deathly Hallows. Some people believe they are real. A friend of mine sure does, and she crafted this for me for Yule last year. Truth is, it’s not real. It’s only a story. A story told to magical children as a reminder to not let their power go to their head unless you’re ready to face the consequences.” 

“What you said had real power back there,” said Rafael. “My rats believe you might be a God.” 

Harry choked. “Merlin, no! Please, don’t let them think such a thing!” he exclaimed horror railing through him. “I - I might be a capable wizard, and I’m used to insane powerful people, but I am nothing special. I assure you! I’m me. Just me. Just Harry. Please don’t let them think that,” he pleaded. 

“I’ll try and dissuade them,” said Rafael. 

“I was running on a lot of pain, and desperation.” 

“For your friends?” Rafael asked. 

Harry nodded. “They mean everything to me. It hurts me to hear about Phillip, and what he’d done…” 

“He chose his path. You said he refused to submit? That is worthy of respect.” 

Harry smiled weakly. “I agree. He was such a sad person when we met. I dragged him to one of those… parties.” 

“Freak Parties?” 

Harry grimaced. “I hate that word, freak. But, yeah. He was addicted to them.” He told Rafael about Valentine, and what he’d done to Phillip, and how it had twisted him. 

He noticed Rafael’s hands fisting reflexively when Harry mentioned that Phillip had only been twelve. Most people did react violently to real children being tormented. Nikolaos hadn’t been a real child. Just a millennia old vampire that never grew. 

“I tried to help him.” 

“I do believe you succeeded. He died on his own terms making his own choices. A man can’t go out in any better way than that.” 

“I agree. You’re much better at this than Edward,” Harry laughed. 

“You keep interesting friends, Harry.” 

It was quiet between the two of them. Harry was breathing softly and fingering the symbol around his neck thoughtfully. Rafael was simply staring at him. He seemed to have some sort of fascination with simply observing. 

“Lillian,” Rafael prompted allowing his voice to travel over the silence, “Wishes to double check that you are alright. You had no real wounds, and yet you were comatose for four days.” 

“Likely magical exhaustion. I do not like using those spells,” said Harry shaking his head. “It’s only the third time I ever used that particular spell. First time didn’t go so well.” 

“It was violent. It’s why we ran in. We heard her screaming. Everyone was curious.” 

“It is. It’s horrible,” said Harry shaking his head. “It takes a lot of power and a lot of hatred. My first time barely knocked my enemy off her feet, even with the hatred I had after she killed my godfather. I didn’t mean it enough. But, seeing Jean go down… I meant it. I was determined to get everyone home. I know he can survive things like gunshots, but when the human mind reacts in a moment of panic...”

“All reason goes out the window,” Rafael finished. 

“Bingo!” 

Rafael stood, towering over Harry who raised his head so that he could see him better. The man held out his hand. “I’d like to offer you friendship Harry, from all my group.” 

“You’re already my friend,” said Harry taking his large hand. It was really warm beneath his touch. Much more so than Jean and Edward. 

Rafael smirked. “Indeed. Louie is begging to pick your brain about your world.” 

“Give him my number if I don’t see him.” 

“I will.” 

It was at that point that Lillian swept through. “Awake are you, green eyes?”

“Yes, madam.” 

“Madam, hm? I haven’t been called that before! Move out of the way, Rom,” said Lillian, and Rafael stepped back allowing the woman room to check him over from his pulse, to his blood pressure. 

“Rom?” Harry queried curiously. 

“I am King of the Rats. Rom is my title,” Rafael told him. 

“Thank you, Doctor, for helping Jean. I know you didn’t have to.” 

Lillian smirked. “I help where I can. Raise your neck? You should probably eat something more than an IV, which I see you’ve taken out.” 

“Sorry, nature called, and it was demanding.” 

“I would suppose so. Do you know why you were unconscious for multiple days when there was really nothing wrong with you?” 

“Exhaustion. Magical exhaustion. I did high amounts of magic, some of it without a focus all in the span of an hour. If a witch or a wizard gets really low on magic, their body will freeze for a while so that it can recover.” 

“Astounding. Do you have any medical books on this?” 

“I can get them for you if you like.” 

She smiled at this. “I would really appreciate it. Especially if I am going to be treating you again. I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.” 

“No problem! Give me a couple of days. The only place nearby is in Chicago or New Oreleans. I am so surprised that you guys haven’t ran into a real witch or wizard.” 

“You must be good at going unnoticed.” 

“We used to be. In Europe it’s still against the law to tell others, but America passed the  _ Free Will of Magic Act _ about ten years ago. It’s been a success from what I’ve seen. But, maybe that’s because in America the schools are year around, and the older ones are just so used to not talking that they don’t and keep out of it. It’s probably more noticable and acknowledged near magical hubs.” 

“Seems as if your mother country is still behind,” said Lillian. 

“It is. It’s great and annoying and horrible and enchanting. You can take your pick and the day of the week.” 

“Sounds like everywhere.” She dropped her arms. “You’re free to go when you want. Nothing is wrong and I’m satisfied.” She nodded. “I’d suggest you eat. You’re rather skinny you know.” 

“Always have been, madam.” 

As she left, Harry looked over to see Rafael lifting a handful of clothes. “These were brought for you. Your car is waiting outside a half a block away. Go dress and I will walk you out.”

“Thank you!” 

“Hm.” 

When Harry returned home, Draco was waiting. He was pacing up and down the drawing room, and he laughed when he saw that the new laptop was smoldering. Least the printer that Edward setup was still good. 

“Bad day?” 

“Harry! You’re back! What the bloody hell!” Draco grabbed him, and Harry grunted as his air was cut off by the squeeze. Harry let out a breath when Draco pulled back, his gray eyes wide. “Jean-Claude told me about Phillip!” 

Harry bowed his head. “I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast that I never got a chance to tell you.” He had no idea what Jean-Claude had told him, and he worried that it was too much of the truth. 

“I only read about Muggles dying in car accidents, but I had no idea… that it could really happen. I mean, you see the paper, and it’s always plastered on the news… how do you die in a car? Is our car safe? Do I need to double check?” 

A car crash? Harry was thankful and annoyed all at the same time. He was thankful that he could protect Draco’s heart, the man never had to know Phillip’s reality, and yet it reminded him so much of what the Dursleys had told him. “Our car is fine, and no one will hit us.” 

“He said it was a drunk driver crashing headlong into the car Phillip was riding in. He said you were working day and night trying to find the person responsible!” 

“You bet I was,” said Harry relieved he could momentarily stop lying. “I never stopped working the case.” 

“He also said you found the one responsible for the vampire murders?” 

“Yeah, they tried to target him.” A technical half-truth? It was the best he could do. 

Draco squawked. “Really? He didn’t tell me that!” 

“Of course not. He’s Jean-Claude. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t been there,” he pointed out. “It was a crazy few days, but it’s over with now.” 

“Thank Merlin for that!” 

Harry spent some time recovering and reconnecting with Draco. Edward was gone, probably off with some other unknown identity that he would never know about ready for his hunt and to satiate that need of his. 

He still dreamed of Jean-Claude, but didn’t dare call or make his way to the District. He went back to work. Bert wasn’t pleased when he found out that he’d been duped out of thousand of dollars by Zachary pretending to be Mr. Jensen. Dolph and the RPIT squad were none the wiser to Zachary being the vampire killer. Dolph hates loose ends, but what could Harry do? He couldn’t tell the man the truth. It was far too dangerous for even the police to handle. 

Rafael let him know on the walk to his car that Jean-Claude had arranged for Phillip to be buried. He thought it would be worse for Harry to see it, and didn’t tell him. 

That annoyed him. Harry hated it when people tried to coddle him, but he gave him some leeway. Jean-Claude did jump in front of a gun for him and even if it didn’t kill him it still would have hurt like a bitch. 

Jean-Claude really was something, Harry thought that night as he walked the cemetery, and found the fresh turned soil beneath the starry night sky. A one winged Angel had been chosen as an ornament and instead of in a prayer position it was kneeling. The stone itself was a deep chocolate marble with blue veins that seemed to sparkle running along the surface. 

It said,  _ ‘Loyal Friend In the End,’ _ beneath his name and date. 

Harry twirled his wand and a dozen red wine roses spilled onto the soil, and as the air rustled he turned to see Jean-Claude standing there as beautiful and perfect as he had always been. 

“Mon belle,” his rich seductive tone twirled with each syllable. 

“Thank you.” 

“He was my responsibility, mon belle.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” said Harry tearing his eyes away from the stunning figure. “I meant, thank you for everything.” 

“Non. You are ridiculous. I stand here because of you, mon belle. You were breathtaking.” 

“I was something alright. I don’t know if that’s what I would call myself. For a vampire you really need glasses,” Harry said rubbing at the blush on his cheek. Geez. Here we go again, Harry thought dryly. 

Jean-Claude threw his head back and laughed, his hair swaying in the cool summer breeze. He reached out, and took Harry’s wrist tugging him close. Harry let him. “I hope you accept my proposal, mon belle.” 

“You have yet to propose anything to me, Jean.” 

“I want us together to protect our community, and to rebuild what Nikolaos attempted to tear apart. I do not want to force you because of the marks. I do not want anything from you by force. I have come to learn that. I can’t bear to take your free will away.” 

Harry rolled what Jean said through his mind, and his eyes widened at the implications. “You’re the new Master of the City?” he breathed in surprise. 

Jean-Claude smiled. “You put me on the throne, did you not?” 

Harry opened and closed his mouth. “I - er - I did?” 

“I may not be the strongest Master Vampire out there in this city, but I am a crafty man, and I’d like to have you at my side. But, it might be a dangerous ride. There may be some pain involved and misunderstanding. I may not be what you wish in your heart or your mind.” 

Harry couldn’t quite wrap everything being said around his mind and digest it so easily. It would take some time, but he knew that Jean-Claude meant a lot to him. Enough to bring out a side that quite honestly terrified him. 

A dark side that he hadn’t considered having. As dangerous as the ride was, Harry was never one to take a step back and run in the other direction. Instead of speaking or trying to relay his complicated thoughts he closed the gap between them, and leaned up to press a kiss to the man’s chin. 

“You’re going to have to move slow, Jean. You might scare me and I might explode, but I’m not so easy to get rid of.” His words didn’t quite apply to Edward. 

Harry didn’t know what to apply to that man. He was a conundrum that Harry would probably be thinking about way too much with his absence. What it really amounted to was that Harry had no idea who Edward really was. He supposed he’d be finding out someday. 

Maybe.

“Ah, mon belle. You are precious.” He wrapped his arms around Harry’s slim frame, and buried his nose into the top of his wild hair. 

_ ‘Even if I don’t know if what you feel is real or just an idea crafted out of some fantasy.’  _

Living was hard. Dying is easy. 

Lord Voldemort’s advice had led him into the arms of two very dangerous men. He was on a ride that had no station for stopping, and honestly? He was ready for the next adventure. 

_ Finite! _

_ End Book One! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once Kim returns we can talk about when to post book two, which is already completed. Need to make sure it's tidied up, and no inconsistencies. Once again Happy Holidays, and thank you to all the Christmas wishers! We hope you stick around for more. We're far from done with this crossover. As the series goes a lot of things change, some stay the same, and Edward will always be around. What book are you most interested to see?


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